Cold Fusion: Hallows' Eve
by Dal Niente
Summary: When a house fire brings sudden tragedy to a well-known family in Metro City, Megamind and Roxanne are forced to address their sentiments towards Wayne.  Sequel to Cold Fusion: True North.  Rated T for language and mature concepts. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

Here we are again! Hallows' Eve. This was going to be two separate stories, Hallows' Eve and Moral Obligations, but after thinking it over I decided it would work better if the two were just one longer story. Oh, speaking of which, this is the sequel to Cold Fusion: True North. If you're new, you can definitely read this without having read the other two, but this one makes some references to things that happened in the previous fics.

The sounds of Jupiter are truly beautiful. And also very slightly creepy. Good ambient noise for writing. www .youtube .com /watch ?v= e3fqE01YYWs

From an editing standpoint, this is the first thing that I've written parts of using voice recognition software. I apologize for any misspelled words or misused homonyms. I've tried to catch everything, but I probably missed one or two errors. Please bear with me!

I also apologize for the bad translations. I am fluent in English and proficient in Spanish, but Google Translate could only go so far with the other ones. If you're multilingual and can provide corrections, _please_, PM me or review with the correct translations!

I say this every time, I know, but updates may be slower than the last couple fics. I'm probably going to do the normal "upload chapters as I finish them" thing with this one. Now that school has started again, I don't have as much free time to write, and I don't think Cold Fusion or True North would have turned out as well as they did without reviewers' influence – otherwise I'd just finish the whole darn thing and upload a chapter a day. This is the earliest in my writing process that I've started uploading a fic, so I'm a little bit nervous… (^-^ ;)

I own nothing! Please don't sue me!

**Chapter 1**

Roxanne looks curiously at Megamind as she fastens her coat. She's seen him in normal clothing before, but it never fails to catch her attention – there's always a sort of _wait a minute_ double-take, and sometimes she wonders if she'll ever really stop being surprised. "Why don't you ever wear turtlenecks?"

He blinks up at her, long fingers skipping up the line of buttons on his grey sweater. "I can't."

"But they'd keep your neck so much warmer," Roxanne points out. "You wouldn't have to wear scarves all the time." Megamind has a startlingly extensive scarf collection. Roxanne has to admit that he wears them well, but still – it's just one more thing to get tangled up in whatever project he's working on, if he's working outside.

"True," he agrees, nodding, and reaches for the small white bottle sitting on top of that morning's untouched newspaper. Sideways-slanting morning sunlight catches his glass as he bolts a pill down with some water. "But I like scarves," he continues with a gasp as soon as the glass leaves his lips. Roxanne shakes her head at him. _Breathe, Megamind_. She sometimes thinks he wouldn't, if he didn't have to. "I might like turtlenecks too, but I've never worn one."

"What, _never?_"

Megamind looks at her then, deep amusement warring with chagrin on his features. "Roxanne, I can't get them over my head." Roxanne makes a face, and he laughs. "Do you really not notice?"

She shrugs, laughing a little bit as well. "I really don't. I guess I tend to assume that your eccentricities are because you're _weird_. Not because you're an alien."

He raises his eyebrows, a playful grin dancing around the corners of his mouth. "Maybe I'm weird _because_ I'm an alien."

Roxanne pauses, looks at him, pretends to consider that for a moment. "No," she says eventually, "no, you're just weird."

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Okay."

"So which scarf for today?" Roxanne wants to know. He's wearing black jeans and his sweater is grey over a black shirt, and the October air is chilly (high of 60, low of 41 according to Stan the weatherman) so she's guessing either grey or black knit.

She's partly right. "I don't think you've seen this one before," he says, grinning as he pulls it out of a bag. Roxanne bites her lip to keep from laughing. It is knit, wide, and striped black and orange. The ends are solid black and have large, lopsided orange jack-o-lanterns knitted into them, and the fringe of orange balls is very slightly ridiculous.

"I know," Megamind says with a crooked smile, looping it twice around his neck. It dangles to his knees, and the orange makes his skin look very blue. Roxanne's lips twitch. "But it's warm, and I _like_ it."

"No, no, it's adorable," Roxanne assures him, tweaking it a little so that it hangs straight. She fiddles with the collar of his shirt, flattens her hands on his thin chest. "Where on Earth did you _get_ it?"

"Uncle Mitch made it for me when I was nine. We," he says, and grins a little at the memory, "Minion and I, we had to wear something Halloween-related for class. I had sort of resigned myself to failing that particular assignment, but then Halloween came and the CO came by my cell with a package from Uncle Mitch. He'd been absent from exercise for two days, staying in his cell and knitting this." His eyes are distant, and he's smiling unconsciously as he rubs the material between his fingers. "It was the ugliest thing I'd ever seen, and I loved it on sight."

It's one of the few times Roxanne has heard him talk about anything specific from his childhood, and the first that she's seen him do it with anything resembling nostalgia.

"I like it," she decides, and he looks back up at her. "Uncle Mitch sounds like a good guy."

Megamind snorts. "You'd never think it to look at him," he tells her. "Big, bald, one-eyed. Scarred. Tattoos _everywhere_. He's in on a triple-murder charge, first-degree. He pled guilty, so he's just in for life instead of being on death row."

"And he knitted you a Halloween scarf so that you would have something to wear to school." Roxanne shakes her head. "Amazing."

"People can surprise you like that," he says, and she grins up at him, kisses him quickly.

"People have."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

They walk north down Main Street hand-in-hand. Megamind's new disguise is pale and thin and dark-haired, with high cheekbones, and he's been wearing it often enough that people are starting to recognize him – he catches eyes and nods recognition, and waves when someone calls, "'Ey, Pavel!"

Roxanne told him playfully that humans don't get to pick their first names and neither should he, but Megamind had refused point-blank to be called William ("That's what you get for pulling Shakespeare on me," Roxanne had said), and so the name on his driver's license is William Pavel Chudakov, Ph.D., and he uses his middle name for everything. Roxanne tells him precious little about the person whose face he's wearing, but admits that she obtained the scans overseas, and assures him that anybody who actually recognizes him is _not_ going to want to draw attention to them. Megamind doesn't press her for information. He doesn't care, really; all he wants is to be able to go places with her, and W. Pavel Chudakov makes that possible. Megamind has been making up Chudakov's backstory as he goes along. It's almost fun, in a way.

"Look, look at that one!" Roxanne points at a fake corpse propped in a doorway, tongue lolling and eyes bulging.

Megamind hums appreciatively. "Now that's just _gross_."

Metro City is large, but the people who live there get behind Halloween with the joyfully morbid vigor that is usually endemic to small, out-of-the way towns. Skeletons dangle in shop windows, and straw men swing creakily from street lights. Some are little more than scarecrows, while others are frighteningly realistic. Jack o' lanterns are everywhere, most of them plastic or metal, but Roxanne notices a few grinning vegetables that haven't been smashed.

"Why do people try?" Megamind asks as they approach one of these. "I mean, it's a nice idea, but we're on the main drag, here. There's no _way_ those are going to survive the night. Half of them probably won't even survive the day."

Roxanne laughs. "The people who made them are new in town." At Megamind's dubious expression, she insists, "No, really. I bet they're new." There are a few pumpkin-carving daredevils scattered throughout Metro City – Roxanne knows of one brick row home on Chestnut Street with a porch that houses up to ten glowing vegetables every year. They're destroyed on a fairly regular basis, but there's always a new one to take the squished one's place. Roxanne can only guess where the owners get such an unlimited supply of pumpkins.

But the Chestnut Street house is the exception to the rule: real pumpkins are almost always put out by people who haven't spent Halloween in Metro City before. That rule is so well-known that three of the doors Roxanne and Megamind walk past have 'Welcome to Metro City' fliers swinging from the door handles above the jack o' lanterns, and she points those out as they walk East towards the harbor and the lair.

The lair is on the outskirts of town, easily a four or five mile walk from Roxanne's apartment. Normally, she and Megamind would simply order a cab if they didn't have the invisible car, but today is Halloween and it was Megamind's idea that they walk and see the sights, "before the night's revelry destroys everything of interest." Roxanne has no problem with walking. It's Sunday, and she isn't going in to work this weekend come hell or high water. And she didn't go in on Saturday, either; this is the first Halloween weekend she hasn't worked in five years, and she figures the news station owes her that much.

She hooks her arm through Megamind's and leans on him for a few steps, shoving him to the side a little so that he stumbles and laughs, then looks at her with dancing eyes and shoves her back.

It was disconcerting for a while to see his eyes shining out of such a human face, but she's grown more or less used to it over the past few months. And although the charade still makes Roxanne a little uncomfortable, Megamind truly does not seem to care one way or the other whether or not he has to wear a disguise, so Roxanne has finally decided to just go along with it and bite her tongue and not worry about it. Megamind actually seems more comfortable this way – the few times she has seen him wearing his true face at public functions, he has been jumpy and stiff, over-confident, and overly careful that no one sees his hands shake.

Roxanne sees, but only because she's _looking_.

But today, the air is comfortably nippy, people are smiling, and it's Halloween. Megamind inhales deeply. "Ahh, _excitement_," he says happily, and glances at Roxanne. "Can you smell it? Surely even you can smell _that_."

She sniffs. "I smell _something_," she admits. Halloween has always had a smell. She isn't sure if it's excitement or rotting pumpkin, but it's always there and it's always the same. "How can you smell it? Didn't you take your caffeine earlier?"

He shrugs. "I did. But some things still get through, if they're strong enough. _Everyone_ reeks of it, but I'm only getting bits and pieces – it's _great_. You know this is the first time I've been able to go out on a major holiday and not feel drunk or nauseated after fifteen minutes?"

Roxanne laughs. "You've never been drunk in your life."

"I've smelled drunken humans. That's the same thing." He wrinkles his nose. "Humans are _gross_."

"Racist," she says, but she knows he's joking, and she's rewarded with a gentle jab in her side from a very sharp elbow.

"Xenophile," he replies. Then he frowns a little. "There's something else, too, I think, but I can't put my finger on it. It's got to be strong if it's getting through to me even after your brother's pill." He sniffs again, shakes his head. "You really can't smell it?" He peers hopefully at Roxanne. "Anything?"

She breathes in, the cold air freezing her nose and chilling the back of her throat, and shakes her head. "Nope," she says with a shrug. "Nothing."

He shakes his head again, his expression wondering. "Amazing."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The decorations and lights peter out a bit when they reach the rows of warehouses near the harbor, but by that point the sun is higher in the sky and Roxanne has shed her coat and draped it over her arm. The plan is for them to stop into the lair for a quick lunch before heading out again, north, to the outskirts of the city and residential neighborhoods.

Minion greets them at the door in a truly spectacular eight-foot headless horseman costume. The gorilla body is wearing a high-collared shirt and bow-tie under a waistcoat and tweed jacket, but the dome is missing, and Minion's bowl is tucked under one arm. Roxanne jumps, then laughs.

The music echoing throughout the lair makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. "What am I listening to?" she asks, glancing around for the source of the noise as she follows a chortling Minion into the lair. It's eerie, centered around a single-tone and quavering up and down endlessly. It is a vast, lonely sound, sad and ancient.

Megamind steps inside, looks around, listens for a moment, and then his face lights up with recognition and he half-dances further into the lair, spinning around with his arms out. Minion grins. "Live transmission from Jupiter," he says. He sounds very proud of himself. Megamind makes a happy _wheeeeee_-ing sound under his breath. "Magnetic particle vibrations."

Megamind shuts his eyes and grins broadly, revolving in slow, tight circles with his head on one side. He looks utterly content, like a cat lying in the sun. "I _love_ the noise from Jupiter. It makes my bones tingle."

Roxanne shudders, but neither of them notices. She's glad. The creepy noise makes her skin crawl, a little bit, but Megamind and Minion both look genuinely _happy_, and crawly skin is a small price to pay.

Minion chuckles. "As far as planetary noises go, Jupiter's are pretty. Neptune's are a little too high-pitched for my taste."

"Anything's better than the panic sirens," Megamind murmurs, still with his little smile in place, still revolving. Then he stops abruptly and mock-glares at Roxanne. "Speaking of which, I am going to destroy your alarm clock."

"I like that clock!" Roxanne protests. "You have no idea how long it's taken me to find an alarm that actually wakes me up."

Megamind holds up a hand to stave off her protest. "I will personally come to your apartment every morning and drag you out of bed if it means never having to hear that clock again. It gave me a panic attack this morning. _Again_. Your clock didn't wake you up," he says, pointing at her, "_I did_."

Roxanne throws up her hands. She usually remembers to turn her alarm off on the rare occasions that Megamind sleeps over at her place instead of the other way around, but she had forgotten last night, and this morning she had woken up to a frightened squawk from her boyfriend just before he had flung his long body across hers, pressing her into the mattress while he'd covered the back of his head with both hands. "_Why?_" she demands. "Just what is so weird about my clock? I thought you'd be used to it by now!"

He folds his arms over his chest and cocks his hips. It's funny, Roxanne thinks vaguely, that _that's_ how she knows he's actually sort of serious. "It sounds like a panic siren."

"A panic siren? What's a panic—"

Minion sighs. "One of the emergency klaxons on our homeworld."

Roxanne stares at him. "It's a _what?_"

Minion just blinks at her sheepishly. "The only way I was able to sleep in your apartment back in July was to set the suit to generate a conflicting frequency so that I wouldn't hear the alarm. It was, um." He shuffles his feet and grimaces. "Distressing."

Roxanne turns an incredulous stare towards Megamind, who shrugs. "I told you that first morning I'd build you a new alarm clock," he begins, but Roxanne stops him.

"Wait, now, just wait a minute." She blinks at him. "Your initial reaction to an emergency siren heralding the end of the world is to shield _me?_"

He blinks, his gaze darting nervously from side to side. "I would have said my initial reaction was to scream like a little girl, but your way sounds much better. I'll go with that, yes."

Roxanne tilts her head. He's trying to distract her, and she knows it. "That's…really sweet, actually." Megamind flushes a deep rose-purple. "Thank you."

Minion rolls his eyes and starts to clank away. "I'll be in the kitchen when you two have finished being all cute."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"So, how were the decorations this year?" Minion asks. Because he does most of the driving around, he has acquired a better understanding than Megamind has of what Halloween decorations in Metro City tend to look like. "Are there ghosts hanging from street lights again?"

Roxanne shakes her head. "No, this year it's mostly straw men."

"There were a few corpses," Megamind offers as he enters the kitchen. He had hung back to listen to Jupiter for a little longer, but he hates being left out when Roxanne and Minion start talking. Roxanne isn't sure, but she thinks it might be because he's still amused that they get along so well. "I quite liked the one outside that rubber modeling place."

Roxanne smiles wistfully. "My family used to buy all our Halloween decorations from that shop," she remembers. "And then one year, Dad dressed up as one of the Rotting Men #3 – we had one that we always put out on the porch to scare trick-or-treaters – and held really still on one of the porch chairs."

"Until the kids rang the bell, right?" Minion laughs.

Roxanne nods, grinning at the memory. "I think one of them nearly wet himself. I thought it was pretty funny."

Megamind scowls. "Children are evil," he complains. "All of them have such a _thing_ about public humiliation."

"You were pretty evil as a child, I seem to recall," Minion points out. "No disguises at the table, Sir. And take off your gloves." He says nothing about the scarf when Megamind's human overlay disappears, but his eye lingers for a moment and he smiles.

"Yes, well, I had a _reason_," Megamind says loftily, shedding his gloves and sitting on them.

Minion raises an eyebrow. "You made the school psychologist _cry_."

"I merely beat him at his own game." Megamind sniffs, then smiles excitedly at the pot on the stove. "Soup?" he says. "You made soup? Minion, you shouldn't have."

"Oh, I've already eaten, Sir," Minions says, waving a hand. He rarely does anything with soup; if it isn't frozen, it's more trouble than it's worth to him to eat it. "Besides, it's easy, and you'll want to be on your way."

"You should come with us," Roxanne tells him. "Honestly, we'd love to have you. It isn't as though we're doing anything particularly private. We're just wandering around and looking at the sights."

Minion waves at her again. "No, that's all right," he replies. "I'm really fine right here. I have some things I need to take care of. You two go and have fun."

Roxanne had been worried, initially, that Minion would begin to resent her for taking up more of Megamind's time than he was used to. But, to her surprise, it's actually been fairly easy for both of them to adjust to the changes. According to Megamind, Minion has actually been enjoying some of the time off. Roxanne can well believe that taking care of Megamind has been a full-time job over the years—she isn't sure how Minion has managed it. But she suspects that, after having no one around but each other to talk to for so many years, they're both glad of the company. She knows she would be.

It's surprising to her, sometimes, that she and Megamind have been dating now for several months—sometimes it feels much longer, and sometimes it feels like they only started yesterday. Megamind has had no more problems with worrying that she'll leave him since the 3-D projector incident, at least not that he's mentioned to Roxanne or that she's noticed. But there's a notebook on his bedside table. Usually he keeps it in the shallow drawer, but a few days ago it had been lying open on the nightstand and Roxanne had glanced at it.

_Alto. No te dejará_.  
><em>Σταματήστε<em>_. __Δεν__θα__σας__αφήσει__.  
><em>_Stop. Sie wird dich nicht verlassen.  
><em>住手。她不會離開你。  
><em>Stop. Elle ne vous laissera pas.<br>__Stop that. She's not going to leave you.  
><em>_Állj. Ő nem hagy téged.  
><em>_Stop that. She's not going to leave you.  
><em>_Stop. Sie wird dich nicht verlassen.  
><em>_Стоп. Она не оставит вас.  
><em>_Stop. Ni fydd hi'n gadael i chi._

Over and over and over again, in different inks and different languages, some of them crammed two in a line and scribbled in the margins, front and back. It goes on for _pages_. One had been covered entirely in an alphabet that looked like nothing so much as what might happen if a spider ran through ink and then tap-danced drunkenly across a piece of paper.

But that's the only indication she's had that he still has any doubts. And if that's the _only_ indication…well, maybe she can do something about it today while they're walking. He mentioned once, ages ago, that he just couldn't understand _why_ she wants him of all people, and Roxanne thinks that maybe all she needs to do is help him understand the why. Megamind isn't one to accept as fact something that doesn't make sense to him. It goes against his nature.

And this is going to take a while to drill into him. Years of social conditioning won't be erased by a few months' reassurance. But she knows he's working on it.

Still, she thinks she might be able to help with it, at least a little bit. Maybe if Megamind knew the _reason_ she'd been single for almost a decade, maybe that would help. Roxanne isn't particularly anxious to talk about her past romances—such as they were—but if it would help, then…well, maybe.

She really wishes she could get some third-party input, some way to have somebody _else_ let Megamind know that she has, in fact, found him attractive for quite a while. Longer than just the past few months. She hadn't wanted to admit it, ever, and she'd been worried about the whole 'bonding with your kidnapper' thing, so she can't really remember if she ever _had_ admitted it to anyone. She could tell him, herself, but it's something that would mean more coming from somebody else. _I've actually been attracted to you for years_ is one thing. _Oh, yeah, she told me a couple years ago that she thought you were hot_ is something completely different.

Well, she can tell him about Peter and Chad, at least. Maybe that'll help.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Megamind holds the door for Roxanne when they leave again, bundled up and, in his case, disguised. She glances at him and smiles, tucks a black-gloved hand around his upper arm. It had surprised him when she started doing that – Roxanne is not a clingy person – but he kind of likes the feeling of having her on his arm. Holding hands is nice, but there's something vaguely high-society and fancy about walking arm-in-arm with her. He isn't quite sure why he makes that connection, but there it is.

They walk in silence for a little while. Megamind looks out at the lake, its water green and very cold and almost smooth as glass. Soon, tonight probably, there will be snow.

"Megamind." Roxanne's tone tells him she has something on her mind, and he looks at her. She's gazing straight ahead, frowning a little bit. "Has Jo told you about a man named Chad? No? Peter?"

Megamind shakes his head. "No, she hasn't said anything."

Roxanne purses her lips. "Figures. I've dated a bunch of people casually – you know, the one-night sorts of things, where one party promises to call and never does, or it's obvious after the first half hour that we're not compatible?"

Megamind hesitates. "I can't say that I do know, no."

She glances at him, then looks back at the road in front of them. "Right. Well, Peter and Chad were my two really long-term boyfriends." She pauses. "I think you should know about them. Like I said, I've dated a bunch of people – but nobody after Chad. I think you should probably understand why."

Megamind blinks in surprise – deep conversations out of the blue are not really Roxanne's style; she prefers to let things happen and explain as they go along – but nods. "All right," he says, "fire away."

Roxanne takes a deep breath. "I'll start at the beginning, with Peter. I dated him for three years, from the beginning of my third year of high school up through the end of my first year of college. He's still around here, somewhere – came to Metro University to study law. He actually did some work for me, a few years ago. He's an attorney at one of the firms here.

"Peter…Peter was _great_. He was a good man, with a good heart, and I loved him." Roxanne says this as fact, without any apparent defensiveness or hidden motive. "He was career-oriented, dedicated, sensitive – he could talk motorcycles with my father and crossword puzzles with my mother, and he and Drew always got along okay. Everyone thought we'd get married, have a house with a yard and a dog and the average two point six children. Everyone," Roxanne stresses, glancing at Megamind. "Including me."

Megamind shakes his head and makes a mental note to learn more about motorcycles. "So what happened? Why did he leave you?"

Roxanne laughs. "Oh, he didn't leave me. _I_ left _him_. Mother nearly had a fit when I called and told her."

"I don't understand," Megamind says, bewildered and still shaking his head. "You just said you thought you'd marry him. Besides, he sounds perfect for you."

"He was. He just wasn't _right_ for me." Her voice takes on a frustrated tone as she speaks. "He went along with what I wanted every time. _Every time_. He never disagreed or objected. He always admitted he was wrong, always apologized first. He never _let_ me apologize. _I_ was always the one who started arguments, and _he_ was always the one who apologized. Hell," she exclaims, really scowling now, "_what_ arguments? We never argued! If I had a problem and said something, he would say, 'Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize that bothered you,' or, 'Oh, I'm sorry, I'll try to remember that in the future.' Even in bed, it was _always_ all about me. He let me do whatever I wanted. It was downright _scary_."

She lapses into irritated silence. Megamind blinks, thinks about this. What Roxanne just described sounded…well, it sounded pretty much like a profile of the ideal guy. "I still don't follow."

Roxanne sighs. "Relationships are give and take. All Peter ever did was give."

_Aha_. Now her point is perfectly clear. "He made you feel selfish."

Roxanne looks at him, eyebrows raised. "I didn't have to tell you that," she says in surprise. "I had to explain it to pretty much everyone else."

Megamind shakes his head. His social skills aren't much, but 'give and take' is just _math_. Like an algebraic equation, it has to stay balanced. And Megamind is _good_ at math. "No, it makes sense. If he wouldn't let you give anything back, then you were always taking."

She nods. "_And_ I was always second-guessing everything, wondering if he was saying 'okay' because _he_ wanted to, or because he thought I wanted him to." She scowls. "It was awful. Anyway, I dated a few other guys in college—Michael was okay, I guess, until he went and cheated on me, and Nick turned out to be gay, _that_ was a fun conversation—but everyone I found was either super-quiet or just content to sit back and let me do my own thing. I was being safe, sticking to the 'type' I knew, but that type just didn't…well, it was Peter all over again, to varying degrees. I met Chad just after I graduated, after I landed my first job with the news station. And Chad was wildly different. He was everything Peter hadn't been. He'd fight with me. Challenge me. He _took_. After Peter, I thought Chad was great. Finally, my chance to give something back!" She laughs bitterly. "I was an idiot."

Megamind blinks. "I missed something, I think. Why…?"

"He turned out to be a total jerk," Roxanne says flatly. "I was with him for almost two years. Incidentally, the second of those was the first year you spent kidnapping me. After that…" she pauses for a moment, and Megamind gets the feeling that she's skipping over something, but he figures she has her reasons so he doesn't comment. "Well, after that, the paper ran that piece about how Metro Man and I were dating, and that was that. Nobody wanted anything to do with me – nobody wanted to cross Metro Man – and I was pretty disillusioned with the whole 'love' thing anyway. I decided to take some time off from dating." She spreads her hands. "I mean, I'm an independent person! I was perfectly happy on my own. I didn't need anybody else. I didn't _want_ anybody else. I had the perfect life – a job I loved, entertainment and excitement on a pretty much weekly basis—"

"I object to being called 'entertainment.'"

"—Shut up, if you can call me a tumor then I can call you entertainment – recognition from the people of Metro City, my very own personal cameraman, and I was living debt-free except for rent. I truly did not want anybody else. I saw no reason to go cluttering my perfect life up with a _boyfriend_." She comes to the end of her brief rant and sighs. Her voice softens a little. "And then I met _you_."

Megamind blinks again, says nothing.

"And you were just, pff, well," she sketches an incoherent gesture with her free hand, "_awesome_. And certainly very striking, looks-wise. And I mean, I had already _met_ you, okay, but I hadn't really gotten to know you. I knew you weren't going to hurt me, I knew I was safe with you, but I never really questioned whether you were evil or not until I met Bernard. Well. You as Bernard."

"How is he?" Megamind asks suddenly. "I've been avoiding him."

Roxanne grimaces. "That's probably wise. He isn't feeling very friendly towards you at the moment. Regardless…"

"Yes. I interrupted. Continue."

"That time that I fell? Your brainbots caught me, and I _know_ it was because you had told them to." She glances to the side; the tops of Megamind's ears are turning bright pink, and her hand around his bicep tightens. "I know how their programming works. At that point, they wouldn't have bothered with me on their own, so they must have been following orders. You saved my life."

"I saved your life _once_," he points out. She's giving him too much credit. "Metro Man saved your life countless times."

"I'm going to disagree with you on that one," Roxanne says thoughtfully. "You can't really save something that isn't _actually_ in danger, can you?"

"Isn't actually in danger?" he echoes, incredulous, and starts ticking things off on his fingers. "Alligators, flame-throwers, the Bootwheel of Death—"

"Brainbots swooping in to catch me if I fell? Knots that never once pulled loose? And, Megamind – you thought I didn't notice, but I did." Her mouth curls into a smile that Megamind swears is positively _evil_, and he would know. "You set the clocks back. Twice. Yeah, I was in some _real danger_."

He huffs, but can't help but smile a little. "Five times."

"What?"

"I reset the countdown for your detonators five times." He shrugs, trying to look unruffled. "As long as we're counting, I thought you should know."

She laughs and leans against him. They're entering the residential areas to the north of town, row homes and duplexes that are more heavily decorated than the shop windows and apartment buildings. "Regardless. I noticed. I never doubted that you were evil, but I did know that you weren't going to hurt me. Do you know why I'm telling you all of this?"

Megamind shakes his head. "I haven't the faintest idea." _But I'm not going to complain_.

"It's because I want you to know that _I know_ what perfect looks like. I don't _want_ perfect. I want someone who will fight me, argue with me, frown sometimes and tell me what he does and does not want—someone who treats me like an _equal_. Pavel—" She pauses, makes a face, lowers her voice. "_Megamind_, you are smarter than I will ever be, but you don't talk down to me."

He grins. "Not usually."

"Not usually," she agrees, laughing. "But you don't, you really don't. I don't have to worry that you're not telling me something, I don't have to worry that if we're fighting you'll haul off and slap me. My _point_, my funny blue friend, is that you are the best thing that's ever happened to me." She pulls away from him, and pushes her hands into the pockets of her coat, embarrassed. "Anyway. I just thought you should know that."

When he says nothing, she glances to the side. The way he's looking at her – marveling and fond and just totally smitten – makes her heart turn over, a little bit. "And," she says, before he can say anything, "you're probably wondering why I brought that up, and in the interest of relieving my conscience, I want to tell you that you left your notebook lying open this morning." Megamind freezes, and Roxanne winces apologetically. "I'm sorry."

Mortified, he covers his eyes with a hand. "You must think I'm a total dork," he mutters.

Roxanne smiles and pulls his hand away, twines their fingers together. "You are a dork," she says, "but not because of that. Can I ask what it's all about?"

Megamind grimaces. "It's…it builds neural pathways. If I start to have doubts, I remind myself. That's all. You weren't supposed to see."

He really wishes she'd let the subject drop, but Roxanne is quiet for a moment and then says, "I just want to make sure we don't have a communication problem, that's all," and that makes Megamind's stomach turn over.

"No!" he exclaims, more quickly and more loudly than he had meant to, and he's dimly aware that he's starting to freak out and that that is _stupid_, but he can't seem to help it. "No, there's no problem, I promise. I do. It's just, I can handle it. On my own. You don't need to worry, Roxanne, really, I'm fine. _We_," he says, wishing he could just shut up, "are fine. Aren't we? I thought we were—"

Roxanne steps into the relative shade of a half-naked tree and drags him around to face her, her free hand curling around his jaw to hold him steady as she kisses him, long and slow. His heart hammers against his ribcage, panicked and fluttery; after a moment, Roxanne lets go of his chin and slides the hand around to the back of his head. She tugs her other hand out of his grip and presses it into the middle of his back, holding him against her.

"Hush," she says softly when Megamind finally comes up for air, and touches his face, rubs a thumb over his cheek. "We are fine. Don't _worry_." She raises her eyebrows a little. "Didn't you hear anything I just said?"

_Communicate_, he thinks at himself, _and get a grip_. _My god, haven't I made any progress at all? It's been months_. And he has made progress, he's made a _lot_ of progress. Irritated with himself for flying into such a panic, he says, "You implied that I was right for you."

Roxanne blinks, and some humor finds its way into her expression. "I did only imply, didn't I? I'm sorry, sometimes I still forget that you need to be told."

And if that isn't condescending, Megamind doesn't know what is. But it's also true, and he knows she didn't mean it the way it sounded, so he just bites his tongue and nods. Roxanne sighs, and they start walking again. "Give me a minute," she says, "I'm not good at this. You're the one who always knows exactly what to say at the drop of a hat."

That makes him blink. _I am?_ he thinks. He isn't sure where she got that impression, but he knows better than to interrupt when Roxanne is wearing her Thinking Face, so he focuses instead on the few orange leaves that still cling to the maple trees lining the road and the small children who are out and about with their parents. Some of the children are already in their costumes, trying to get the proverbial bit between their teeth, begging for Mom or Dad to let them go trick-or-treating already, come _on_.

After a few minutes, Roxanne bites her lip and nods. "Okay, I think I've got it. Somehow, through some random, hilarious stroke of irony, I have found everything I wasn't looking for but could ever want in _you_. I can be completely at ease with you. I don't have to worry constantly that I'm doing something you don't like and you're just too polite or…or gracious to tell me. And I don't have to worry that you'll come storming home after a bad day and hit me." She takes his hand again. "I can talk to you about anything. You're my friend, and that's the important thing. And as long as you feel the same way, we're fine."

He swallows. "I do," he says. "Feel the same way, I mean. And I am getting better about not worrying, I swear."

Roxanne nods. "Good, that's good. And if you don't _want_ to talk about it, that's completely okay. As long as you know you _can_ talk to me about it if you _do_ want to. That's all I meant." She frowns a little bit, sniffing in the cold air. "'Communication problem' probably wasn't the best choice of words, there."

He laughs at that. "Probably not," he agrees, and changes the subject. He knows of one thing that is sure to distract Roxanne from pretty much any line of thinking. "How's your mother?"


	2. Chapter 2

I'm trying something with longer chapters in this fic. Keep an eye on the pacing, lemme know what you think?

…oh, and I still don't own Megamind. I _really need to get on that_.

ps: rmroxs, you don't have a user account so I can't reply to your reviews, but you make me smile really hard and you make me do that a lot, do you know that? :D

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

Roxanne sighs. "She's better, thanks. The doctors said that the surgery went really well, but I'll probably head down for a visit later this month. I haven't been down to visit in years, and I feel bad. Maybe for Thanksgiving."

Megamind hesitates. "I should…probably stay here, I think, for that," he says, but he lifts his voice at the end and turns it into a question.

Roxanne groans and wrinkles her nose the way she does when she doesn't _want_ to agree with something but knows she should anyway. "That might be a good idea," she admits. "I don't want to send the wrong signals—I mean, you're family to _me_, but…"

"No, no, I understand," Megamind assures her quickly. "I don't want to risk anyone finding out about us sooner than we'd planned. And I know that's not what you meant," he adds, "but that's _my_ rationale." It's a valid point, and they both know it. Megamind is getting better about handling himself in social situations, but extended day-to-day exposure to Roxanne's family might be something he couldn't pull off and keep up the charade as Pavel. Not at this point, anyway. Megamind is a fast learner, and even though the social graces don't come as easily to him as science and language does, he's still picking up on them fairly quickly.

"Mine is that my family is old-fashioned, kind of, and I think it would be awkward for my mother and brother if I brought New Boyfriend to stay when they haven't had me to themselves in a while." Roxanne sighs again, then visibly brightens. "Tell you what, though, I'll see about bringing you home for Christmas. Mom might actually be okay with both of us coming to stay for a few days then. And even if she isn't," she adds with a laugh, "I know Drew definitely will be. He's just _dying_ to meet you."

Megamind chuckles. "That's one encounter I am actually looking forward to."

Megamind and Drew have started emailing back and forth with startling enthusiasm, but they haven't actually spoken yet; both of them seem to regard the phone as off-limits. "That would make it too _easy_," Drew had complained when Roxanne had asked him about it, and Megamind doesn't really care for phones anyway.

"Well, they're both still wildly curious about my mysterious nuclear particle whatever physics boyfriend," Roxanne tells him. "So far Mom's guessed all of the science professors at Metro University. I finally had to tell her you weren't a teacher. She sounded relieved."

"Something wrong with professors?"

Roxanne makes a disgruntled noise in the back of her throat. "She seems to have gotten it into her head that they don't make enough money."

Megamind blinks at her. "What? Where did she get _that_ impression?"

"Don't ask me," Roxanne says with a shrug. "I have no idea. I'd have to be really, _really_ high-maintenance for that to be true."

Megamind just shakes his head. Roxanne doesn't seem to require 'maintenance' at all, that he's noticed yet, and it's been months. A couple of times he's wondered – worried – that he's missed something, some special cue, that he isn't doing enough for her, but he knows that Roxanne would tell him if that were the case, so all he says is, "Huh."

"Out of curiosity…" Roxanne begins, then bites her lip and shakes her head. "Never mind."

"What?"

"No," she says, "it's not the sort of question I should ask. One of those relationship faux pas."

"Okay, _now_ I'm curious," Megamind says, amusement creeping into his voice. "And you know I probably wouldn't notice a social misstep on your part. What is it?"

Roxanne takes a deep breath, holds it for a moment, then blurts, "Where do you get money?"

Whatever question Megamind had been expecting, it hadn't been that one, and he does a bit of a double-take. Roxanne laughs at his expression. "I'm serious!" she exclaims. "I've been trying to figure it out for _ages_. I've seen some of the figures you're tossing around to repair the city, and they aren't small. But you returned most of your ill-gotten gains. At least, I _thought_ you had."

Megamind snorts and waves a hand at her. "No, you're right, I did. Well, most of it. But the city's repairs were all done legally – I liquidated some of my assets to help pay for it. Sold a few paintings here and there, the deed to some mineral rights in the Appalachian Mountains that I didn't need, a few old books. That sort of thing."

"Where do _you_ get old paintings?" Roxanne says, baffled. "A few old books? What old books?"

"Would you like a list?" Megamind asks, grinning. "I'm pretty sure I can remember everything."

She slaps his arm lightly. "I would _love_ a list," she tells him. "I am wildly curious."

Still grinning, he nods. "_De Rechtvaardige Rechters_, a fifteenth century Van Eyck stolen in 1911. A Rembrandt landscape. There was a five million dollar reward offered for information leading to the return of thirteen pieces to a Boston museum—I got the reward in September, when I stole the pieces back from the thieves. Leonardo da Vinci's _Codex Leicester_, Ptolemy's _Geographia_, and the _Capture of Oechalia_ – and let me tell you what, that last one was a pain in the butt to track down, I've been sitting on it for _years_. A Faberge egg. And a Strad-ee-various."

Roxanne blinks. "Stradivarius? A violin? A violin can't possibly be worth _that_ much money."

Megamind's grin turns wicked. "Oh, I think you'll find that it can, if it was made in 1683. It can, in fact be sold for one and a half million dollars if you find the right buyer. I shipped it off last week."

Roxanne stares at him, now totally boggled. "Where did you _find_ this stuff?"

"I've gotten very good at locating lost treasures over the years. For a while I was convinced I could become some kind of famous collector – I gave that up after spending nearly ten years searching for the _Capture of Oechalia_. And I have a lot of…" He hesitates, searching for the best way to put this, and decides to try hedging a little. "…Savings, shall we say?"

Roxanne looks at him curiously and he sighs. "A few years back, Minion and I were testing a new maritime submarine, just seeing how it held up under Pacific conditions, and we…went looking for a shipwreck while we were out there. Minion knows how currents work, and I know how physics work, and…we found some pretty valuable stuff. Stuff that, in all honesty, I probably shouldn't keep, but the ship went down in 1945, so finders-keepers, as far as _I'm_ concerned."

Roxanne's eyes narrow a little and she starts to smile. "Wait, is _that_ why you were grinning through that special about wreck diving?" When Megamind just laughs a little bit and glances away, her mouth falls open. "It _is!_ What ship? C'mon, you can't just leave me hanging _now_."

Megamind can feel his ears turning pink, and he ducks his head and looks away, still laughing, and mumbles something under his breath. Because how do you say something like this without sounding boastful?

"What?"

He takes a breath, lets it out. "The…okay. We _may_ have found the _Awa Maru_."

Roxanne pauses, frowning. "That's…the German one?"

"No," Megamind says. "Japanese."

Roxanne thinks for a moment. "Wasn't that the one with the five million dollars in gold and silver and stuff?"

"Billion," he says without thinking, and quickly adds, "But it ended up being only four and a half. Not five."

Her jaw drops and she goggles at him. "_Megamind!_"

"_Shhh!_" He looks around frantically, but no one seems to have heard. "Not so loud!"

"Five _billion?_" Roxanne squeaks.

"Four and a half," he insists. He's never seen Roxanne's eyebrows go so far up her forehead before. But he doesn't want her to fixate on that, so he bulls ahead and continues, "But I'm not just living off my savings; I do have an income. Most of _that_ comes from the mineral rights to a few thousand square kilometers or so of oil fields."

Roxanne swallows and recovers herself a little bit, but she still looks completely thrown. "Like, four or five thousand?"

"Well…" Megamind shrugs, makes a vague head-bobbing gesture. "You know. Five or…fifty…ish. You know."

Roxanne staggers. Physically staggers. "_What?_"

"Before you ask, yes, the rights are legally mine." He knows Roxanne hadn't been going to ask. Megamind has noticed that she never asks _how_ he acquires things. It's a sign of trust, he supposes, but saying nothing about it feels like lying by omission. "They were signed over to me under…_duress_, shall we say, but they are mine. Everything is quite legal." He smiles, looking almost nostalgic and ignoring the fact that Roxanne's eyebrows have disappeared under her hair. "I may have never had a conventional job, but you can tell your mother not to worry. I can take care of both of us perfectly well. Money," he says, and his smile widens, "is not something we will have to worry about." He glances at Roxanne and decides to throw her a line, volunteer some more information. As long as he's going to be talking about his finances, he might as well brag a _little_ bit, right? He is proud of himself for doing so well so early in life. "I do feel a little bad about Enron, though…"

Roxanne takes the bait more enthusiastically than Megamind had expected. She was already shocked, and this is the icing on the cake. "Enron?" she gasps. "What – wait, you can't possibly have – _Enron?_"

Megamind's eyes are dancing. "Well, the executives were selling their shares and I'd actually been reading the 10-Ks they had been sending out and I know bullshit when it's fed to me – no company that was doing what they were doing can possibly make the kinds of returns they were reporting – and they were telling shareholders to buy more, buy more. And I said to myself, 'Megamind,' I said, 'that's _fishy_,' so I sold when prices hit eighty-seven." He shrugs helplessly.

"But," Roxanne says, still staring, "but _Enron_. Enron."

"Yes," Megamind says, speaking as if to a very small child, "Enron. I made almost sixteen and a half million dollars off of Enron in 2000, then turned around and used that money to make some more healthy investments. And the submarine!"

Roxanne takes a deep breath, opens her mouth, closes it again, and then says weakly, "I think I need to sit down."

One of the few homes on the street that is devoid of Halloween decorations also has a few newspapers sitting on the front porch, so Megamind leads Roxanne over and they sit in two of the white wicker chairs. Megamind is grinning, and Roxanne is still staring into space, totally bewildered and amazed. He had taken her totally by surprise with that one, and he feels a little bit smug about it because Roxanne is not easily surprised anymore. So he doesn't interrupt her while she thinks, and instead takes the opportunity to look around a little bit.

The house is the last on the row, and although the neighbor's side sports a minimum of porch furniture and yard decoration, whoever owns the porch he's sitting on obviously cares about their gardens despite the lack of space. Fall-blooming flowers are everywhere, and there's not a weed in sight. It's rather pretty, though entirely too organized for Megamind's taste – organization is for papers and experiments, not flowers. The sprawling jumble of tall stalks and shrubs on either side of the porch across the street is much more appealing. He glances around restlessly while Roxanne stares, and his gaze falls on the newspapers scattered over the porch. They're still in their plastic bags, and he frowns and scooches them under a wicker chair with his toe – he of all people knows that leaving multiple newspapers on a doorstep is a great way to get your home robbed.

"How," Roxanne says, breaking the silence and making him jump, "in the name of all that is good and green on this earth did you buy enough shares in Enron to make sixteen million dollars off of them."

Megamind puts his elbows on the arms of the chair, steepling his fingers out of habit. "It was actually one of the first major investments I ever made, and I kept closer track of them than I did most of my other shares." He's kind of enjoying the shocked expression on Roxanne's face. He had known she expected he had money, but he had never bothered to tell her how much. He's proud of himself, oh yes, but he had known it would sound too much like bragging if he said anything – and he brags a lot, but only about stuff that doesn't actually matter. This is something he's really proud of, something useful, and he shrugs and slouches down in his chair, grinning at her over the tips of his fingers. "I mean, so would you if you spent a million bucks on stocks in one company that was just starting out. In retrospect, that wasn't very smart. It worked out well for me, but it was kind of a stupid move."

"But where did you get a million dollars to start off with? This is before you found that ship, right?"

Megamind shifts a little bit. "Ah," he says. He's starting to smirk. "Yes. I was…there was monetary compensation from the PHED. It wasn't that much, it was less than a quarter of that, actually, but I'm a crack hand at counting cards, so…" He does his best to arrange his features into a sheepish expression, but 'sheepish' isn't something Megamind is good at and he only manages to look diabolical. "I can't help it. It's just something that _happens_, you know?"

"The FED?" Roxanne's brow furrows. "Why would they give you money?"

Megamind snorts. "No, not the FED, the PHED. Paranormal, Holistic, and Extraterrestrial Department. In exchange for, quote-unquote, services rendered. Which is a bigger load of crap than the Enron debacle, if you can believe it." He shakes his head, looking disgusted. "Services rendered," he mutters. "As if it were remotely voluntary."

"Oh!" Roxanne looks for a moment as if she's going to ask a question, then says, "Sorry. Right." Then she frowns. "Holistic?"

"Yes, I asked about that, too," he says with a thoughtful frown. Then his eyebrows shoot up and his tone turns cheerful. "Near as anyone can make out, it was the founder's idea of a joke and it stuck."

"Huh," Roxanne says. Megamind doesn't say anything to that, although sometimes it bothers him when she obviously wants to say something but doesn't. "Right, so. Go on."

"There's not much else to say," Megamind admits. "I got lucky, that's all, and I've made some good decisions since then. You—"

The door to the other half of the duplex swings open, and he stops talking. Despite the fact that it's mid-afternoon and the sun is low in the sky, the man who steps out and reaches for his afternoon newspaper is clad in a bathrobe and slippers, and his dark blonde hair is tangled. There are shadows under his eyes, lines at the corners of his mouth, and a surprised expression on his face that lapses quickly into one of carefully-schooled boredom.

"Roxanne Ritchi," he says, and he _sounds_ utterly unsurprised even though he's still blinking in astonishment. "I didn't think I gave you my address."

Roxanne gapes at him for a moment before she recovers. "I was – we were just sitting." Her tone is over-bright. Too bright to be normal. "Came around to see the decorations and got tired." Her attempt at small talk falls flat on its face. It's amazing, Megamind realizes, how very awkward some silences can be. There ought to be a system of measurement. Awkward units. This would be a ten. Roxanne tries again, almost wincing as she does so. "…How goes the, ah, the job hunt?"

Bernard's expression sours. "Still nothing," he says, and sighs loudly. "I'm not exactly the most _employable_ person in the world." Then his bored gaze flicks to the dark-haired young man sitting by Roxanne, and he stiffens. The transformation is immediate and remarkable – Bernard goes from irritated lethargy to knife-sharp hatred in half a heartbeat. "_You_," he hisses. "Get off my porch."

Roxanne blinks, fumbles. "Bernard, I think you're confused – this is my boyfriend, Pavel –"

"No," Megamind says quietly, without looking away from Bernard's angry face, and stands up. He isn't really surprised that Bernard wasn't taken in by the disguise. "No, it's all right, he knows."

"Boyfriend, huh?" Bernard's lip curls. His face is hard, his jaw set. His hackles are up; if he were anything but human, he would be snarling. "You're a lucky man."

"I am," Megamind agrees. He keeps his tone neutral, but under the disguise, he's sweating. How is he supposed to act? What is he supposed to say? Social situations are not his forte, interpersonal conflicts even less so, and he wants desperately to be somewhere, _anywhere_, else. He thinks longingly of jail. The nice thing about jail was that nobody could bother him there.

Bernard's eyes narrow to furious slits. His voice is low and cold. "I think she can do better."

"So do I." The unspoken _But she doesn't seem to think so_ is audible to everyone present, and it makes the silence that follows about twice as awkward as the last one.

For a moment, they simply stand and stare at each other. Something dark and ugly flickers behind Bernard's eyes. Megamind looks every bit as uncomfortable as he feels. "I hate you," Bernard finally whispers, and Megamind exhales.

"I know," he replies heavily. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"It's not worth much," Bernard snaps. His chest is beginning to heave, but he has too much self-control to allow himself to raise his voice. He stays where he is, fists clenched, breathing hard, eyes snapping sparks. Megamind has never seen anyone stand so energetically _still_ – Bernard hasn't moved from where he's standing, but somehow Megamind is reminded of a whirling bola: twirling and twirling and at any moment it will fly out and tear his legs out from under him. "You ruined my _life_. I lost my job. You've blown all of my theories on you out of the water by switching sides, you know that? Nobody wants to hire someone who's been wrong on all counts for the majority of his career." He snatches a folded piece of paper from the pocket of his bathrobe, brandishes it like a gun. Megamind flinches reflexively away. "And on top of that, I'm being evicted! My credit score is ruined, I can't get any loans, I can't pay my bills. If I don't pay my rent in two weeks, I'm homeless. And I owe it all to _you_." His nostrils flare. Ordinarily he wouldn't be saying half of this, but he's been thinking it for ages and he's been alone with his thoughts and now, self-control or no, everything is pouring out. And he can't stop it. And he hates it.

Megamind doesn't know what to say, but he has to say _something_, he can't just stand there like a lump, so he says the first thing that pops into his head. "Bernard, I – I'll pay your rent. It's the least I can do –"

Bernard's head comes up like an angry wolf's and Megamind has to remind himself not to back away. He registers dimly that he's standing like a stick again, feet together, elbows and arms clamped against his sides, back straight. "Damn straight it's the least you can do. It's a temporary fix at _best_." When he's calm, which is pretty much always, Bernard is lethargic, condescending. He rarely opens his eyes all the way, and he rarely raises his voice. Angry Bernard is something else entirely – his shoulders are squared and his movements are small and sharp, like those of a wind-up toy soldier. But his voice is still low and his eyes are still at half-mast, and that makes it worse than if he shouted. "Can you find me a job? Can you get me off of the Chairmen's list?" He shakes his head. Megamind is surprised he doesn't spit; he certainly looks like he wants to. "Keep your _charity_."

Megamind blinks. "The chairmen?"

Bernard bares his teeth in a silent growl. "Do you have _any idea_ what kind of people I've had to go to, just to get enough money to live on? The kind of things I've had to agree to do?" He shoves a hand through his hair, making it stand on end more than usual. It looks like he hasn't washed it in a while.

Megamind decides to steer the conversation into safer waters. "I don't know about any chairmen," he says, "but I can get you a job with the PHED."

Bernard chokes on a harsh laugh. "Are you kidding? I already called them. They wanted nothing to do with me."

But Megamind isn't finished. Bernard will stand and tear him apart piece by piece if Megamind doesn't do something. What Megamind is doing doesn't feel like the right way to deal with this situation, but he can't think of a better way. "Who did you talk to? Give me a name."

"Mortacci," Bernard snaps, and Megamind grins.

"I'm not surprised," he says. "She's had it in for me from day one – as far as she's concerned, you're a plague rat for even associating with me. Anyone else in the department would have hired you straightaway. Listen," he says, and takes a card from his pocket, flips it over, scribbles a name, a number, an email address. Hands the card to Bernard. "Send your résumé to him. Tell him I referred you."

Bernard glances at the card. "This is a D.C. area code."

"That's where headquarters is located," Megamind agrees.

"Do you know how expensive it is to live in Washington?" Bernard rolls his eyes expansively, sneering. "Let alone move there with nothing. With _less_ than nothing. Thank you for that, _by the way_."

Megamind takes a step forward. The conversation is still horrible, but it's a conversation, and he's beginning to be able to think again. And, as usual, his brain dances six or seven steps ahead of what's actually going on, and begins to weave a brittle plan. "Bernard," he says seriously, "I owe you three ways. For your body, for your name, and for your time." Bernard's eyes narrow, but he says nothing. Encouraged, Megamind continues, "I will repay you three ways. First, your rent. And your other debts. I'll take care of them. And I'll fix your credit score, return it to what it was before all of this."

Bernard looks like he wants to sneer again, but can't quite manage it. It's obvious he still hates Megamind, but there's a glimmer of suspicious hope trying to creep into his eyes and he knows better than to turn down help freely offered. A certain saying about beggars and choosers comes to mind. He settles for a scathing, "Good luck. It was perfect. I never defaulted on a single payment, and I paid everything in full. And if you want to take care of my debts, fine, but I warn you, I've got student loans I'm still paying off."

Megamind is unfazed. "Second," he says, "I will pay your way to Washington, or wherever else you choose to go, until you receive your first paycheck. Within reason," he adds. "I won't pay for you to sit around at home and loaf."

Bernard returns the nod, looking as if he expected that last part. "And your third offer?"

"Thrice pays all, as they say," Megamind tells him, even though he's pretty sure that 'they' have never said any such thing. "A favor."

Bernard's face turns hungry. "What are the terms?"

"I'd prefer it to be at least marginally legal," Megamind admits. "But if it isn't, I'll still see what I can do. I don't want to kill anyone, and I don't want to ruin anyone else's life." He stops talking and waits. Bernard is considering.

When the other man sucks his upper lip between his teeth and bites it, Megamind knows he's reached a conclusion.

"Will this be enough to repay my debt to you?" Megamind asks. He's being hideously formal, here, which he doesn't enjoy – the speech patterns really aren't his. But Bernard is hideously old-fashioned, and the 'three times owed, three times paid' seems to have appeased him somewhat. Bernard is nothing if not precise and factual. A man of numbers and old, antiquated literature.

Bernard nods once, curtly, but says, "That depends on the favor. I—"

"You can take as much time as you need to consider it."

Bernard shakes his head. "That won't be necessary. Wait here." He doesn't hang around for a response, just turns on his heel and slams the door behind him.

Megamind lets out his breath in a rush, sinks back into his chair, jams his hands into the pockets of his coat to keep them from shaking. "That went well," he murmurs, and even _he_ isn't sure if that's meant to be sarcastic or not. "Much better than I'd expected it to." He heaves a sigh and leans back, throws one leg over the other and frowns. "Much as I hate to just throw money at problems until they go away, I can't deny that it's effective." The sides of his mouth turn up in a thin, humorless smile, and for a split second Roxanne is looking at someone very different from the Megamind she knows. "Everyone can be bought."

Bernard's door slams open again and he storms back out onto the porch. He looks, if it's possible, even more wildly rumpled than before and he's clutching a manila folder in one white-knuckled hand. "There's a girl," he says without preamble, and thrusts the folder at Megamind, who half-rises and leans forward to take it. "In North Korea. I want you to get her out. They've stepped up security, there's been a scare of some kind."

Megamind opens the folder, then takes a pair of old-looking wire-rimmed spectacles from his jacket pocket and slips them on.

Bernard cannot resist. "You wear glasses?"

"No," Megamind says distractedly as he thumbs through the papers. "Pavel does. Got Lasik back in '05, now he just uses them for reading. Or so the story goes. Oh, now _this_ is interesting," he adds, removing one sheet of paper from the rest and holding it up to the light. He squints at it for a moment, then looks over the tops of his spectacles at Bernard. "She has mob connections?"

Bernard nods. "Sicilian. She's been denied entry to the United States several times. We think she has relatives here."

Megamind purses his lips. "Let me guess, she's illegitimate."

Bernard merely looks grim. "Can you do it?" All traces of animosity towards Megamind have vanished, and have been replaced with a sort of desperate, clutching hope. It's the dangerous kind – the kind that leads desperate men to deal with demons.

Megamind looks at him, looks back at the papers in his lap. "I think I can," he says after a moment, then nods decisively. "Certainly I can. Yes."

Bernard takes a deep breath, and the color leaves his cheeks and then comes flooding back. It's an expression Megamind knows well. Bernard would spend the rest of his life dehydrated on a shelf if it meant getting this woman safely into the US.

Then he composes himself, returns Megamind's nod. "Good," he says flatly. "Do that, and I'll consider your debt paid. And I'm not going to Washington," he adds, and he sounds very sure of himself. Too sure. Megamind blinks, and his attention sharpens – not only does Bernard look and sound completely decisive, he didn't take any time to think about his decision. _There's something else going on here_.

"Where, then?"

Bernard doesn't miss a beat. "Wyoming."

"_Wyoming?_" Roxanne repeats, incredulous. Bernard doesn't look at her.

Megamind only says, "Why?"

This brings the quirk of a sardonic smile. "Can't tell you," he says. The smile disappears, and he glances at the folder. "How soon can you get her?"

_Can't_, Megamind thinks. _Can't tell me, not won't tell me. Interesting choice of words_. But he's careful not to show his interest – he blinks, shrugs. "Couple of months, maybe?"

Bernard's face hardens. "How _soon?_"

Megamind considers. Thinks of names, of plans, of backup plans, of backup plans to backup plans, of more names, of account numbers and minimum deposits and rush order fees, of favors owed and uncollected debts… "January," he says at last. "Late January. Maybe early February."

Bernard nods again, but it's jerky, and his aura of whirling motion has only increased. Megamind's eyes narrow. Bernard looks like a man who is trying to appear calm but can't remember how to breathe normally. "Skip the student loans, get her here faster. As fast as you can. Whatever it takes."

Megamind is startled, but he doesn't show it and he doesn't ask any other questions. Reasons were not part of the deal. If he isn't allowed to know _why_, then he won't know why. It's as simple as that. He rises, sticks out his hand. "A pleasure doing business with you, Bernard. I'll be in touch."

"I'm leaving town for good tomorrow morning," Bernard says flatly, ignoring the proffered hand, then turns and goes back inside his house without saying anything else.

Roxanne's stares from the closed door to Megamind's thoughtful features. "What was _that_ all about?"

Megamind lowers his hand. "I'm not sure. I expect we'll find out in February." He glances at Roxanne, wishing he could explain the irrational nervousness that has struck so abruptly. He almost wishes he hadn't taken his afternoon caffeine already; Bernard had been sending off some _very_ weird vibes and Megamind suspects it would have been good to be able to read them.

"Are you okay?" Roxanne asks as they walk back to the street. "You look…upset."

"Not upset. Confused." Megamind shakes his head. "Did he seem _off_, to you?"

Roxanne shrugs. "He seemed like he was pissed at you. Which is how he usually seems."

There's more to it than that, there has to be. Bernard had been on edge – he'd definitely implied that there was a deadline of some kind. February, something about February. The way he'd been acting, it had seemed like that was too late for something. But for what?

But it isn't any of his business, it really isn't. So he says, "You're probably right. I'm probably just seeing fire where there isn't any smoke," and they leave it at that. He'll look into it further when he gets back to the lair – for now, he puts the problem firmly out of his mind. He's taking a day off. He's not going to think about it right now.

Roxanne's voice startles him out of his reverie. "Do you want to head back now, or wait until after dark?"

Megamind looks over at her. She's actually slightly taller than he is, or she would be if his head weren't so disproportionately large. "Why?" he asks, and focuses determinedly on this new vein of conversation. "Does something particularly special happen after dark?"

Roxanne shrugs. "Well, there's the trick-or-treating," she says. "I wouldn't mind seeing which costumes are popular this year. If we were further south it wouldn't be half as interesting, but north of town like this, the outfits are mostly handmade."

"What's the difference?"

She looks at him, surprised. "Creativity, I guess," she says slowly. "Store-bought costumes are all well and good, but you get a lot of repetition. I don't know, I just like seeing what kids come up with." She grins. "I had longer hair when I was little, and one year I decided I wanted to be a bat. Mom spent two hours with me in the bathroom, taping my hair into two cones on either side of my head for ears. We tore up about fifteen pairs of black nylons to do it, and they didn't look anything like ears, but nobody else had the same costume."

Megamind tries to picture child-Roxanne in a bat costume and fails. "That sounds. Um. Fun?"

"It was. It was _loads_ of fun. Halloween's always been one of my favorite holidays."

Megamind is never sure what he's supposed to say when Roxanne tells him a story about when she was little or what her family used to do on vacations. He suspects that, if he were a normal, human boyfriend, he would respond with a similar story. He gives it a try. "I went trick-or-treating, once, with one of the other kids, Maian. It was Henny's idea. She took us around the office upstairs. Maian went as Godzilla and I dressed up as a Zeta Reticulan – we used up a lot of face paint and even then I was still sort of bluish. But it was fun, you know, to get candy for a change instead of cigarettes."

Roxanne starts to say something, then stops, looking uncertain.

"What?"

She hesitates, then says, "Why did you get candy instead of cigarettes?"

Megamind blinks, then laughs. He really hadn't offered any backstory or explanation for that particular anecdote. "Oh, well, going around the jail, you know how it is…grown men don't eat a lot of candy. Well, except for TB, but Uncle Mitch kept me away from him until I was a lot older. TB had a thing for kids."

Roxanne decides, privately, that she likes Uncle Mitch, and decides to risk another question. "So this year was special because you got candy. And you went around an office?"

Megamind sees then what the problem is. Timeline. "This was in Washington," he explains, and then, when Roxanne blinks and blushes and blurts something incoherent, has to try to keep from laughing. "Oh for crying out loud." He rolls his eyes heavenward. "I look forward to the day when you and I no longer dance circles around each other. This is ridiculous. Look, I may be insecure and I may be slightly cracked, but if I volunteer a story, it's safe to assume that talking about it isn't going to trigger some sort of mental break."

Roxanne laughs at that, but it's a little shaky. "We're quite a pair, aren't we? You're still worried you'll frighten me off, and I'm afraid of asking the wrong questions."

"At least we're making headway," Megamind points out cheerfully, linking his arm through hers. "In the future, don't worry about it. The way I see it, if you say something that makes me go a little funny, well, so much the better for me because then I know what to work on. Right?"

"I suppose so," Roxanne says, but she sounds dubious, and Megamind rolls his eyes again.

"Look," he says. "If we bungle something up, oh well, we'll work it out." His sudden grin is sharp and reassuring. "We seem to be good at that."

And that's the last word. He won't have this turn into some major, heavy discussion. They've reached their quota for the day already. He tugs on Roxanne's arm, and they set off down the sidewalk once again.

"Okay," Roxanne says. "So who was Maian?"

Megamind smiles. "Maian was cool. She was my age, quiet. We didn't talk much," he says, and chuckles at some hidden joke or memory, "but we clicked pretty well and we ate together when we were allowed to. We covered for each other a few times. She was transferred a few months before I was allowed to leave, I never did find out what happened to her."

"Really?" Roxanne frowns. "I would have thought you'd track her down as soon as you could."

"Well of course I'm curious," Megamind admits, "but she told me she was going to be moved, and as good as told me not to look for her. That stung, a bit, but I'd learned not to argue with her by that point. Maian _knows_ things."

"Like ESP?"

"Like the gift of tongues." Megamind shakes his head. "I'm multilingual, but I've had to work at it. Maian…didn't. Ever. She understood every word that was spoken – sometimes she understood more than what was said. And she could tell when people were lying or had hidden motives. I learned a lot from her. Mostly how to lie convincingly."

Roxanne laughs. "Honey, you can't lie worth beans."

"Not to you," he says, and then, because that isn't entirely true, adds, "Not about important things, anyway. Not that I would." And that still isn't really the truth either. "Except, maybe, as an experiment. Wow, I really need to shut up." He's blushing again, he can feel it.

"Keep digging, I can still see you," Roxanne says with a grin. "But you know, you never did answer my question about the bomb you supposedly planted."

Megamind opens his mouth, then pauses. "Which one?"

"_Which one?_" Roxanne stares at him. He's grinning. "Are you _serious?_"

Megamind's grin widens. "Maybe."

Roxanne scowls. "You're obnoxious," she grouses.

"Roxanne, I have made a long and brilliant career out of being obnoxious. Don't think I'm going to stop now," Megamind says, and musters up his very best evil laugh. Along the street, heads turn. Roxanne has to lean on Megamind to keep from falling over laughing; Megamind's over-the-top expression would have looked perfectly natural on his face, but he isn't wearing his face. On Pavel, the expression makes him look like he's going to be suddenly and violently ill.

It's nothing like a normal relationship, and it's everything like a normal relationship. And it's anything but boring.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"We ought to play some sort of game," Megamind says after a while, eyeing a walking pile of balloons with deep suspicion. The pile is carrying a jack-o-lantern bucket half full of candy. "'Guess That Costume.' What _was_ that?"

"I haven't the faintest idea. Multicolored bunch of grapes?" Roxanne nods at what looks like a pencil made of posterboard. "We could make Halloween Bingo, or something. The wild spot in the middle would be any costume you and I can't figure out. Oh, now that's fun."

Megamind looks where she's pointing and snorts. "Not a lot of effort in that outfit. Suit, tie, big sign pinned to chest with 'IRS AUDIT TEAM' on it? Easy peasy." He sniffs haughtily. "I am unimpressed."

"Yeah, well, you have to admit it's scary," Roxanne points out. "That's one person you don't ever want ringing your doorbell. Besides," she adds slyly, "we can't _all_ have aquatic tailors to design us brilliantly complex costumes." When that comment fails to produce a response, Roxanne turns to look at her boyfriend. He is staring openmouthed down the street. Roxanne follows the direction of his gaze, and blinks.

Two boys, too old for trick-or-treating, are circling each other slowly on the corner. They're probably in high school, and Roxanne thinks at first that they might be on the football team; they're broad and well-muscled – that much is obvious from their skin-tight costumes, both of which are instantly recognizable.

Metro Man and Titan. They've even managed to make their hair cooperate.

Titan lunges, keeping his weight low, his movements deliberate and crushing. Wrestling team, maybe. Metro Man has definitely had some training in an Eastern martial art. Roxanne wishes briefly that Jo were seeing this; Jo would know what technique it is. Whatever the case, they both know enough to put on a pretty good show, despite the fact that the battle is probably rehearsed and the fighting styles don't match.

Roxanne watches for a minute or so before she realizes that Megamind has moved away from her and is standing with his arms folded over his chest on the opposite side of the street, slouching in all his blue-skinned, leather-clad glory. It's dark out, and nobody but Roxanne has noticed him yet; everyone else's attention is fixed on the battling superheroes at the end of the block. He's grinning hugely. Roxanne wonders how on earth he found the time to change into his leathers – usually it takes him a while to get everything in place. It has to be some sort of trick. She shakes her head and turns back to the fight.

They're well-matched, and when Titan finally goes down – thanks to a beautifully-executed but totally impractical combination double-punch and helicopter kick from Metro Man – both boys are breathing hard. They hold their poses for a moment, and then Metro Man bends down and hauls Titan to his feet to spatters of applause.

Megamind claps just a touch slower than everybody else, and for just a touch longer. Titan sees him first, and elbows his companion.

"That was _fantastic!_" Megamind exclaims, taking his cue. "Good show, boys, good _show_. Wow. Two thumbs up. Two _really big_ thumbs up." He walks towards them, his movements quick and sharp and almost skipping, a sure sign that he's genuinely excited. If he's aware that people are pointing and staring, he doesn't show it. "That's probably the coolest thing I've ever seen, ever. Internet videos notwithstanding, that was the coolest thing I've _actually seen_." They're both taller than he is, but Megamind's presence is by far the more commanding. Megamind looks at Titan and blinks once. "You, I remember you, you were in the paper two months ago. Joey Metcalf. How did the tournament go? Did you place?"

Joey Metcalf stares, then recovers himself with an effort. "I…what? Yes, I mean, yes. Fourth."

Megamind raises an eyebrow. "Out of?"

"Fifty."

Up goes the other eyebrow, and Megamind makes an impressed humming noise. "Not bad."

Joey shrugs. "Not my best," he mumbles, and Megamind sends him a conspiratorial smile.

"It's _never_ our 'best,'" he says in an undertone. Then he turns to Metro Man, frowning a little. "I don't think I recognize you. Are you from around here?"

"I'm…no. Visiting." The boy shakes his head, staring. Then he blinks a few times as if to try to clear his head. "I'm his cousin. Nick. Is my name."

Megamind sticks out his hand, and, looking shell-shocked, Nick shakes it. "Megamind," says Megamind, as if he could possibly be anybody else. "That spinning kick at the end, there. How did you do that?"

Nick stammers a little bit. Megamind has taken both boys by surprise with his sudden appearance, but he's acting normally enough, and Nick finally seems to come to the conclusion that as long as the blue man is behaving like this is all business as usual, so will he. "It—was just a regular helicopter kick."

Megamind nods. "Yes, I saw that. But how did you _do_ it?"

At Megamind's insistence, Nick performs another kick, then another. Megamind taps his thumb against his lips, then drags it down over his goatee a couple of times, frowning. "I don't think I'd be able to do that." Nick blinks at him. "Counterweight," he explains. "My balance would be off."

Nick raises and lowers one shoulder. "Give it a try?" His face and his posture are all screaming _this-is-weird-this-is-weird-this-is-weird_, but his voice sounds studiously calm.

Megamind pulls a face. "No point," he says. "I'm not built for it."

"Oh c'mon," Joey says suddenly, surprising the other two. "I've seen you on TV. You're all over the place."

Megamind blinks at him, his expression dubious. He takes a few steps back, then step-step-jumps—

And catches himself heavily on his hands and knees on the pavement. He picks himself up, dusting his hands together with a rueful shrug. "You see?" he says. "Case in point. It just won't happen."

"Your head's too big," Nick replies. Megamind chuckles.

"Is it? I hadn't noticed."

Nick turns red. "No, I meant – I just mean to say that –"

Megamind waves his apologies away. "It's all right, I know what you meant. You're right. That's what _I_ meant when I said my balance would be off." He half-smiles. "There are things I'm just not physically capable of. Guess that's one of them."

"Well, and you're not warmed up," Nick reminds him over a squeal of tires from the road behind them. He's trying to offer Megamind an out, some way to brush off the embarrassment of having just failed in front of a group of people.

And villain-Megamind would have been embarrassed. It would have killed his image. But recently he's been trying to show that he's nothing special, really, and he figures it's good for people to see him fall a little bit. So he says, in a conversational sort of voice, "I am warmed up, actually. Side effect of the whole 'alien physiology' thing. Always ready to jump at a moment's notice. But, anyway, thank you. Good luck with the wrestling, Joey," he adds, shaking their hands again. He waves over his shoulder as he jogs away.

He ducks between two houses and resets his disguise, cuts across a few backyards, and pops out from behind an arborvitae in time to make Roxanne jump. "So that was exciting," he says brightly. "Social interaction! Success! Yay me!"

Roxanne shakes her head, laughing. "Well done, you. What was that all about?"

"Their performance was good. As a performer," he says, speaking as if this is the most natural thing in the world, "I wanted to say hello." Then he glances at his watch. "It's getting late. We should start heading back."

Roxanne nods. "Trick-or-treating's over soon anyway."

The small crowd that had gathered has now dissipated, and the October night has gone from chilly to cold. The brightest stars pick themselves out of the sky, but most are obscured by the lights from the city.

"Maxence?"

Megamind isn't really sure why the woman's voice catches his attention like it does, but Roxanne's head turns as well. A slip of a woman in a long coat and gloves is standing on her front porch—probably just returned from taking her children door-to-door—and staring up and down the street, peering around the tiny yard. A small girl with her thumb in her mouth grabs onto her mother's leg with her free hand. Megamind takes Roxanne's hand and they turn to leave, and then the woman calls out again, and this time her voice has the frantic undertone of rising panic.

"Max! _Maxence!_"

Megamind turns without thinking, dances up the porch stairs. "Is everything all right? How can we help?"

The woman gapes at him for a moment – she's not American; her cheekbones are too wide, her build too narrow, and Megamind wonders if maybe he should have spoken more slowly. Then she recovers. "No, is, my son—Maxence, he is here and now he is not here, I cannot see him—" She cranes her head a little to the side, long neck bending so that she can see over Megamind's shoulder, and scans the street again.

"He's missing?" Megamind asks, then decides to risk a gamble on the woman's accent. "_Est-il disparu?_"

She looks at him unhappily. "_Je ne sais pas. Peut-être_." She's quickly becoming frantic; she presses her lips together and blinks hard, then calls out again, "_Maxence!_"

Roxanne comes up the stairs as Megamind puts a reassuring hand on the woman's shoulder. He glances back at Roxanne. "Her son's disappeared. Apparently he was here just a minute ago. We're going to help her look."

Roxanne takes a breath. "Oh, that poor woman. What can I do?"

"You," Megamind begins, then stops, remembering the screech of tires when he'd been talking to Nick and Joey. He's off the porch like lightning, sprinting up the street. It hasn't been more than a minute, maybe two—they can't have gone far. He sees the two broad shapes ahead and slows. "Nick!" he shouts. "Joey! Hey, hold up!"

Confused, the two teens stop and turn around. Megamind jogs up to them. "Sorry, just a moment of your time," he says, panting a little. "When we were talking earlier, did either of you see anything? There was a car that sounded like it was spinning out, did you notice anything?"

Both boys stare at him blankly. "We?" Nick finally asks.

Megamind blinks at him, then curses inwardly—he's wearing Pavel again. He flaps his hands. "No, sorry, forget that—" He grimaces, then repeats his question. "Look, just, did either of you see anything? A car, or a guy running, anything? A kid's gone missing," he says finally, and Joey's eyebrows go up.

"Yeah," he says excitedly, "yeah, man, there was a car. I remember I sorta wondered what he was doing, pulling away like that. It pulled over for, I dunno, a couple seconds, maybe? Over there." He points towards where Roxanne is still standing with the French woman, five or six doors down the block. "And then it drove away. Guy was _hauling_."

"Did you see anyone get out of the car?"

Joey shakes his head. "Nah, man, it was dark. And I wasn't really paying attention. Just thought it was weird that he was driving so crazy, that's all."

Megamind nods, swallows, twirls his wrist in front of his chest a couple of times and tilts forward at the waist in an approximation of a breathless bow. "Thanks," he gasps, then whirls on his heel and dashes away again, narrowly avoiding running over a small boy and his father. He only misses them by leaping wildly to one side, arms akimbo.

Nick stares after him in total bewilderment. "The heck was that?" he wonders aloud.

Joey is starting to grin. "That," he says, "was Megamind."

Nick laughs shortly. "Yeah right," he says, but he sounds more certain than he looks. "Get outta here."

"Nah, man," Joey says again, really grinning now. "You remember this summer? When he and Titan were going at it, and he bluffed everybody into thinking he was really Metro Man, and his fish was really him?" He looks back after the black-haired figure, which is little more than a dim silhouette at this point but still unmistakably in the process of vaulting up the porch stairs. "Guy can do _wicked_ disguises, man," he says, and grins so hard it's a wonder his smile doesn't jump off his face, then lets out a whoop and punches the air. "I _love_ living here!"


	3. Chapter 3

Oooof! This chapter took a lot longer to write than I thought it would. Hopefully it turned out okay, but as always, concrit is welcome! Everybody seems to be liking the longer chapters, so I think we'll try to stick with those for now.

Onward to chapter three! I own nothing.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

"I've called the police," Roxanne tells Megamind as soon as he's back up on the porch. "They said they'll be here soon." She nods at the young mother, who has draped herself in a white porch chair and is staring into space. "Her name's Cecile Beauchamp." She pauses. "I'm not sure how much more we can do beyond stay with her until the police arrive."

Megamind considers for a moment. He hates to just _leave_ without really doing anything. It feels like leaving a project half-done. "I might be able to do more than that," he admits.

Roxanne raises an eyebrow. "Without blowing your cover?"

He sends her a Look and grins. "Roxanne. Please. You're talking to the massssster of disguise."

Evidently that means something different to Roxanne than it does to him, because Roxanne takes a deep breath and holds it for a moment, looking as if she's trying very hard not to laugh. "I certainly hope not," she manages.

He blinks at her. She blinks back expectantly. "I'm…I think I just missed a culture reference."

Roxanne snorts. "You didn't miss much," she assures him. Then she glances at Cecile. "But you didn't answer my question."

Megamind hesitates. He would need an article of the boy's clothing to give to a brainbot – one of the older models, probably a 6.9. They'd been the last of the olfactory-to-visual sensors, just before he'd switched over to ultrasonic echolocation as the brainbots' main method of "seeing." But he'd only made a few of them, and as with all his designs, the first few he made tended to be the loudest and brightest of the run; in the case of the 6.9s, the first few had ended up being the _only_ few. So no hope of running a quiet search behind the scenes. He runs through a few options in his head – he could always plant a few false trails and let slip that he and Megamind traded data back and forth, and add that the blue ex-villain had owed him a favor so he'd borrowed a brainbot, but someone would be sure to cry 'foul' about that if only because it would have been too coincidental. Too handy an excuse. Also, since when does Megamind share data?

Still, he _might_ have been able to pull it off by just abandoning his disguise if he hadn't made that very public appearance only a few minutes ago. The existence of the disguise generator is common knowledge at this point because of his Metro Man charade back in July, so it wouldn't take a genius to connect the dots, to notice that he was in the right place at the right time – just someone paranoid enough to make the accusation. And the citizens of Metro City have come to associate him with Roxanne in _both_ personas, but not at the same time, so if anybody notices that Pavel and Megamind were _both_ in close proximity to Roxanne…maybe he's just being paranoid. But no, Joey had looked and sounded entirely too familiar with him when Megamind had approached the second time – he had figured it out, Megamind is almost certain of it. All it would take is some gossip mentioning Roxanne Ritchi had been in the neighborhood.

Then again, he _could_ just wait until morning to join the investigation, and claim that he had left after talking with Joey and Nick and then seen news of the child's disappearance in the papers. But no, that won't work either, because people are going to be running back over all his activities as Pavel as soon as he and Roxanne go public. And when that happens, this will pop up. And if the news that he waited twelve hours to help when he _knew_ a little boy might be in danger ever went public…well, that's another black mark that he just can't afford to have on his record.

There is no way he can help with this investigation as Pavel or Megamind without tipping somebody off or jeopardizing his character later on. The safest thing for him to do – the only thing for him to do – is to walk away.

He sighs and shakes his head. Roxanne is watching him curiously – he took a lot longer to think through that one than usual. "No. Not without potentially blowing my cover, no."

Whirling lights play across smudged white siding, the red-white-blue effect at odds with the Halloween orange-and-black theme. Megamind and Roxanne turn. A police car and a grey sedan with blacked-out wheels have pulled up to the curb.

Roxanne heaves a sigh. "Well, that's that," she murmurs.

"I guess it is," Megamind agrees reluctantly, and looks at Cecile. He attempts an encouraging smile. "_Bonne chance_."

She looks up and tries to smile back, but her eyes are over-bright. "_Merci_."

As they head towards the street, Roxanne is stopped by the officer who had stepped out of the sedan. Megamind waits by the mailbox. "You the one who called it in?"

Roxanne nods. "I already told the dispatcher everything I knew," she says. "It wasn't much. Definitely not enough to be useful. Sorry."

The officer says something else, Megamind can't quite catch it, but it must be some form of dismissal because a few seconds later Roxanne is coming towards him. "Shame about all this," she remarks as they set off down the street together. Megamind doesn't answer, just flicks the collar of Pavel's coat up around his ears, then shoves his hands in his pockets and hunches his shoulders. "Halloween's a dangerous time. Lots of kids in masks, lots of adults in masks, a dark street…easy to snatch a kid out from under his mom's nose." She shakes her head. "Poor woman. I hope they find him." Then she realizes that Megamind is no longer walking beside her.

They've gone maybe a block and a half, and the street that had been so busy just a few minutes ago is now almost entirely empty – everyone else has gone inside or has their attention focused on the Beauchamp home. Megamind is standing in the middle of the road, scowling straight ahead. Confused, Roxanne takes a step towards him. "Meg…Pavel?"

He lets out a soft huff and turns around, looks back at the Beauchamp house and the whirling lights. He shakes his head, turns back, and looks at Roxanne. He licks his lips and starts to take a step towards her—

And stops, his frustrated scowl turning pained. He turns in a small circle, paces like a tiger in a cage. Looks at the house. Bounces impatiently on the balls of his feet. Roxanne knows these movements all too well: it's Megamind's 'frustration dance.'

Then he lets out a breath and his hunched shoulders fall. "Ghaa_aaah_," he groans, and spins, and begins to stalk back the way he came, twisting the watch.

Roxanne darts forward, catches his elbow before anybody notices. "What are you _doing?_"

"I have to," he says quietly.

"But you just said—"

"I know what I just said," he snaps, and his voice is unexpectedly sharp. Roxanne falters. She's seen Megamind look like this before. He's doing something that he has to do, whether he wants to or not. "Look around you. Look at this neighborhood." Roxanne glances to either side. It certainly isn't a slum, but it isn't exactly high-income, either. Megamind sounds resigned. "Whoever kidnapped that boy isn't looking for a high ransom. This is about something else. And in my experience, _kids_ and '_something else_'s tend not to blend well."

Roxanne slumps, but she knows it's no use arguing with Megamind when his jaw clenches like that. "What can I do?"

"You can leave."

She stares at him, already starting to protest, but he cuts her off. "People will talk as it is, and I don't want them to see us together. We can't afford to let that happen." He half-smiles, flutters a hand towards her hair. "You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here."

'He's right. The annoying thing is that he's right. _Dammit_. She huffs a sigh, and her breath puffs white in the dark air. "I'll go see our grouchy friend," she says. "I'm going to go help him pack. You can come find me there."

Megamind, to her surprise, agrees. "Good. And see if you can figure out why he's acting so weird."

"He always acts weird," Roxanne points out, and Megamind shrugs reluctantly.

Roxanne is quiet for a moment. Megamind had said something earlier about Bernard seeming 'off,' and if he's bringing that up again now, the subject is still bothering him. Megamind isn't one to worry over frivolities, either – if he's still thinking about it, something is probably wrong. Roxanne nods and punches him gently in the shoulder, as she had the first time he had shown up as Bernard. And she smiles, but her eyes are serious. "I'll see what I can do."

Megamind smiles back. "Thanks."

As soon as Roxanne is out of earshot, he pulls out his cell phone and dials his input code, then enters the ID number for Dante, one of the newer brainbots. He instructs Dante to send him RS2K12, one of the unnamed 6.9s, then puts the phone away. Modifying the cell phone signals so that Megamind wouldn't need to contact Minion if he was away from the lair and get him to send out the bots had been Minion's idea, one with which Megamind had enthusiastically agreed. Previously, if Minion had been out when Megamind called, Megamind had been forced to wait until Minion could contact a brainbot. There were situations where he simply could not afford to wait. Luckily, nothing too dire has come up yet, but Megamind is very good at conceiving of situations where waiting for a brainbot could lead to nuclear holocaust—they're incredibly far-fetched, but they could happen.

Luckily, RS2K12 shouldn't take too long, so Megamind takes a deep breath and heads back towards the Beauchamp house. As dark as it is outside, there are lights enough to see fairly well, and one of the police officers who's still out near the street spots him before he gets too close.

It's actually kind of funny to watch the indecision play out – Megamind, after all, has only just resigned his position as Metro City's resident supervillain, and every instinct in the cop's brain is telling him to shout, or pull his gun, or do _something_. But Megamind is _grinning_, and both his hands are visible, and he _has_ resigned as the resident supervillian, and he can almost see the giant 'Now What?' blinking like a neon sign above the cop's head.

Finally the officer just walks out to meet him, obviously nervous but hiding it well. "Hey," he says, and he sounds friendly enough, but his face, like Nick's earlier, is still screaming _this-is-weird_. "Can I, um. Can I help you? Sir?"

Megamind comes to a stop facing him and cocks his head. It's odd, he thinks, but this is the first time he's stood face-to-face with someone and just _talked_. In his true form, that is, without having met for a council meeting or presentation or proposal – that business with Nick and Joey felt different, somehow, than this does. How far away is he supposed to stand? Is he standing too close, or is this okay? And _what_ is he supposed to do with his hands? He wants to put them in the pockets of his coat, but the caped disguise the holowatch is projecting doesn't have pockets, and he isn't actually sure how the device would compensate—he hardly wants to look like he's clutching his thighs. Crossing his arms over his chest would make him look defensive. He takes a deep breath, pauses, and then lets it out and just turns off the disguise generator. He doesn't want to have to worry about it, and now he'll be able to put his hands in his pockets. That taken care of, he smiles brightly at the police officer. "You know, I was going to say the same thing."

The officer opens his mouth, then closes it and frowns. He's quite a young man, Megamind realizes. Probably why he came over instead of yelling – he doesn't have the 'Megamind! Run!' mentality that older officers do. He must be fairly new to the force; Megamind doesn't recognize him. "Actually, I have no idea. Can you?"

Megamind shrugs. "I've got one of the brainbots on the way. One of the older models – depending on when you joined up, I'm not sure if you'd recognize it." Then he grins in what he hopes is a charming and disarming manner. "But even without the brainbot, nobody knows more about kidnapping than I do."

The officer lets out a quick, awkward laugh, and nods. "Yeah, I'll…I'll give you that," he agrees. Megamind laughs, too, and he sounds just as uncomfortable as the young policeman. He resists the urge to scuff a foot on the ground.

_Think of something to say_, he thinks desperately. _Small talk. What did Roxanne say to do in these situations? Make light of the problem?_ "So, hey," he says, still laughing a little bit, his gaze darting around the dark street, "the, ah. The elephant in the room. It's more of a mammoth, isn't it?"

The officer lets out a short laugh and appears to relax a little bit. "Yeah, sorry, this…this is kinda weird for me. I mean. Didn't really expect to see you here. In, you know." He waves at Megamind's chest. "Normal clothes. Just talking."

Megamind raises his eyebrows, nods eagerly, grins. "It's _bizarre_, right?"

The policeman flashes a half-smile, then sticks out his hand before the awkward silence has a chance to return. "Officer Bradley," he says.

Megamind shakes it. "Megamind," he says, because he can't just not say _anything_, but he's aware that that's the second time tonight he's done that, and he tries to make it sound like a joke. He's going to have to figure out a way to respond when people do that. At city functions, he tends to just nod and look as grave and professional as he can, but the social norms are different for different situations. "Do you have a first name, or should I just call you 'Officer?'"

"Bradley."

_Oh_. Megamind opens his mouth, closes it again, smiles weakly. He isn't surprised, but still, he had hoped that maybe he could make some kind of connection with at least _one_ member of the MCPD. "Last-name basis, then, that's…I mean, that's cool too."

"No." Bradley waves a hand, grinning ruefully. "No. My name is Bradley. Or Brad. Either way."

Megamind blinks a few times, uncertain, and finally decides that the safest thing for him to do is to just ask and get the confusion out of the way. "Just to clarify," he says cautiously, "your first…_and_ last…names are both Bradley?" Bradley shrugs and nods, and Megamind says the first thing that pops into his head. "Wow. Your parents must have hated you."

Which, of course, he immediately regrets, but Bradley snorts. "You know, sometimes, I used to wonder. Bradley No Middle Name Bradley. Used to get made fun of all the time in school."

Megamind chuckles. "I know what _that's_ like," he mutters, then spreads his hands. "But hey, if it's any consolation, my name isn't exactly normal either."

Bradley looks like he doesn't quite know what to make of this information. "What is it?"

"Megamind." And then, when Bradley just _looks_ at him, he shakes his head and grins. "No, seriously. Mega No Middle Name Mind. Technically," he says, "I am Mr. Mind. But they used to call me Blue, in school."

Bradley grins back. "Can't imagine why."

"Well, Blue or Freak," Megamind admits. "One or the other. Sometimes both. But, you know, water under the bridge and all that." Inwardly, where Bradley cannot see or hear, Megamind is cheering. Because he's having a conversation. A _real_, honest-to-God conversation, with a real person who isn't Roxanne and isn't a politician or board member or CEO or someone he's trying to impress, and it isn't awkward or weird. It's amazing. He feels like his grin is going to leap right off his face.

"Kids can be cruel," Bradley agrees, nodding. "We see it all the time. But I notice _you_ never blew away your school."

"Nooooo," Megamind says slowly, and decides that these are dangerous waters and he should probably steer the conversation back to the original subject, because as thrilling as it is to be bantering _normally_, he's not sure how long he can keep it up. And, of course, there's a crisis occurring. "No, I never did. Killing, you know, _killing_…that's just…well, that's just inelegant. There's no trick to it. Kidnapping, on the other hand," he adds, "is tricky, especially if you don't know what you're doing. Which is why I am here!"

"Right! Right, yes, back on track." Bradley nods again. He sounds just as relieved as Megamind is to be back on professional ground, and Megamind realizes with some surprise that they're probably both in the same boat as far as the other is concerned. Neither of them has any idea what to do or say and they're each trying to take their cues from the other – and what's more, they probably both realize what's happening but can't figure out how to stop doing it. It makes him feel a little better. "So. Brainbot. You said you're waiting for an _older_ model?"

"It's one of the 6.9s," Megamind explains. "It's the last run I designed that navigated solely by synthetic olfactory-sensor visuals, although I upgraded this one to use optical navigation as well. But that tends to cut in and out, since I didn't prepare for any upgrades in the original design."

Bradley looks blank. "Come again?"

"It's a snifferbot."

"Oh!" Then he frowns, and his tone turns dubious. "You really think it'll work? The kid was taken in a car. All we have so far are a couple rubber streaks on the pavement. Can your machine track down an individual car by its tires? Is it sensitive enough?"

Megamind smiles. "_Trust_ me." It isn't a friendly smile – it's one of his evil ones (Evil Knowing Smile #4), and it's seen more use over the years than Megamind cares to admit, considering its origins. He had based it off the smile Roxanne wears when she knows something that is going to bring a world of hurt to somebody else. "I know my own work. RS2K12 isn't going to track him down, it's going to sniff him out. And when it does…"

"When it does, you'll call us in," Officer Bradley says, looking Megamind in the eye. "Of course."

Megamind doesn't miss a beat. "Of course," he says blandly, and switches to an innocent expression. Unfortunately, that one doesn't seem to go over as well as the evil smile had. Bradley leans away, and Megamind drops the act. "What's wrong?"

"You look like you're going to go for my throat."

Megamind makes a mental note not to try that again without practicing it some more first. He had gone over it a few times before, but only as Pavel – most of his expressions transfer between faces fairly well due to the faint similarities between bone structure, but 'innocent' is evidently one of the few that only works on Pavel's face. This dual-persona is going to drive him mad, it really is. "Oh. It was meant to look innocent."

Bradley makes a strangled sound, looking as if he's trying not to laugh. "I don't think you and innocent go very well together."

"We really don't!" Megamind exclaims, and starts to follow Bradley towards the house. "My whole career thus far has been based around being as…as extravagantly _eeeevil_ as possible! And _now_ look at me! Helping you!" He points at himself with both hands, then heaves a theatric sigh. "What am I doing with my life?"

"Well, don't take it too hard," Bradley says smoothly. "After all, you _are_ a freak. Nobody really expects you to be anything else."

Megamind glances up sharply, but Bradley just grins and claps him on the back. His expression is completely guileless, which throws Megamind for a bit of a loop. "Come on, Freak," he says cheerfully, and turns to lead Megamind up the front walk, "let's go make headlines!"

Megamind can't stop smiling as they mount the steps. He is used to being called Freak, but not in so friendly a tone. Spontaneous interaction with two younger members of the populace, first-name basis with someone new – a _policeman_, no less – _and_ a nickname based off a friendly insult? He is _on fire_ tonight.

"Hey, I'm here," Brad announces as he steps onto the porch. "What've I missed?"

"Yeah, jeez, kid," says one of the other officers, and turns around. "What did you find, an interesting—" His gaze falls on Megamind, and he freezes, then drops one hand to his gun. "What the hell are _you_ doing here?"

"Evening," Megamind says with a wave, trying to dispel some of the tension. It doesn't work. "Was in the neighborhood, thought I might be able to help."

The other officer's eyes narrow and he squares off with the blue alien – probably without really meaning to, but it sets Megamind on the defensive anyway until he recognizes the man as Officer Jones, first name Frederick, 'Jones' to his friends, 'Fred' to his wife and 'Freddie' to his mistress. Megamind knows from experience that Jones doesn't do anything violent unless absolutely necessary.

"_You_ don't 'think you might be able' to do anything," Jones says flatly. He looks older than Megamind remembers. His face is lined and there's grey at his temples that hadn't been there when Megamind had last seen him. "You either can help us or you can't, and if you couldn't, you wouldn't have bothered to show up."

Now that he's recognized him, Megamind feels a little surer of himself, and his awkward smile turns back into a grin. "How well you know me," he says pleasantly, putting an easy note of singing mischief into his voice. "It's been a while! How's Norma?"

Bradley looks over at Megamind in surprise. "You two know each other?"

Jones doesn't look away from Megamind's face, and he doesn't blink. "Not really," he says. "He probably just remembers me. He remembers everybody."

"It's a gift."

"Fun at parties, I'll bet," says Jones, and the undisguised malice in his voice actually makes Megamind take a step back. He's always known that Jones doesn't _like_ him, but he hadn't thought the man hated him. Jones has always been objective; he's never taken Megamind's antics personally. Has something changed? He tries to think back over the past few months, tries to remember anything that had to do with Jones and those close to him.

"I wouldn't know," he replies carefully, "I don't go to many parties." He wants to ask Jones what the problem is, but something tells him that's probably not a good idea. Maybe Bradley will know. Megamind will ask him about it later, if there's time.

"So," Jones says after a pause. "You can help. How."

_Keep things professional. Right_. Megamind forces a smile and opens his mouth, but a harsh, grating whirr followed by a series of mechanical clicks drowns out whatever he had been going to say.

_Thauuuumk-k-k-k-k_.

Jones jumps and spins. The brainbot hovering behind him is larger, brighter, and a lot more rickety-looking than most of the active Host. Megamind's face lights up – mostly with relief at the distraction from an increasingly awkward situation. "RS2K12!" he exclaims, and claps his hands together, bouncing lightly in place. "Excellent." _Perfect timing_. He glances at Jones, explains, "It's a snifferbot. Now all we need is a piece of the boy's clothing, and we're set."

"Might need more than that." The new voice is female, and Megamind turns to find a third police officer holding out a clipboard. _Three_, he thinks. _Of course. Two in the black-and-white, one in the sedan_. "Mercedes Velasquez," she adds, by way of greeting, but she doesn't try to shake Megamind's hand and she doesn't wait for a reply. "Ms. Beauchamp said her son was in costume when he was taken – something about blue, but my French isn't what it used to be. I think she was miming something to do with hats."

Megamind looks at the clipboard. "Blue face paint," he says, then blinks at what's written below it and grins. "And a black costume with blue markings. I like this kid. But you're right," he adds quickly, before anyone can comment. "We should get some of the paint, too. The bot won't _need_ it, but it'll help the search move more quickly."

Mercedes nods. "Right," she says brusquely. "I'll get it."

"That's all right." Megamind waves her aside. "My French is better, I'll ask. _Madame!_" He steps around her and smiles at Cecil.

Mercedes glances over her shoulder at Megamind's back, then drops her voice. "Where did _he_ come from?" she demands, staring back and forth between Jones and Bradley. "Did one of you call him?"

"Oh sure," Jones says, rolling his eyes at her, "yeah, I can just summon up the city's supervillain whenever I want. Catch me doing _that_."

Bradley sends him a dirty look before turning back to Mercedes. "He just wandered up," he tells her. "Said he could help. I figure if anybody can track down a kidnapper…"

Mercedes's eyes narrow. "A kid goes missing and he just _happens_ to be in the area? That doesn't sound suspicious to you?"

"Hey now," Bradley protests. "Everyone says he's turned over a new leaf, and you know this isn't his usual MO. Besides, have you seen the training plans he's proposed to the police academy here?"

"Yeah, well, there's a first time for everything." Mercedes looks over her shoulder again in time to see Cecile lead Megamind into the house. "Just 'cause he's changing his game doesn't mean he's turned good. He could just be bored. It's not like we've had a lot of action the past few weeks."

"He could've kidnapped the kid and then showed up to help us find him in order to make himself look better," Jones suggests. "Sort of a 'good PR' plot."

Bradley glares at him.

"What?" Jones protests, spreading his hands. "Anything's possible. You gotta admit, before that whole Titan thing went down, this is _exactly_ the kind of thing Megamind would've done."

"No it is _not_," Bradley insists. "He never went after a child. Not once. And you know it. Velasquez, you saw the last public fight he was in, you were there with me. Remember?" His tone is pointed, and he stares at her, willing her to make eye contact, but she avoids his gaze.

Megamind's final downtown battle with Metro Man, a few days before the disastrous opening of the museum, had involved a crab-like battle suit with legs controlled by Megamind's fingers. He had looked like he was playing a piano in order to walk. Unfortunately, Megamind was no pianist, so his balance had been off for most of the fight – public speculation afterwards was that the bot had been a prototype intended to be the precursor to something larger and much more effective. The battle had been short-lived, though, because although the streets had cleared quickly, the nearby citizens had simply scattered without looking where they were going, and a few minutes into the fight a girl of about eleven or twelve years had panicked and tried to run to her father across the road. Her path had taken her on a collision course with the off-kilter battle suit. Metro Man had, at the time, been swooping down for a vertical assault, so Megamind's options had been few – he could jump to avoid the girl and slam directly into Metro Man's fist, trample the girl to escape, or slam on the breaks, overbalance, and then get punched by Metro Man.

Startled, the blue alien had reacted on reflex. He had reared back, the massive suit staggering back with him on four of its eight legs and then slamming back down with the girl directly under its midsection. Not good. At the time, no one had been sure whether Metro Man had seen her, and if he had hit the battle suit, he would have driven it into the pavement and crushed her underneath it. And the road Megamind had been on was too narrow and the suit's range of motion too limited for him to make any delicate maneuvers.

He'd had about two seconds to make a decision. He had taken half of one, and had locked the spider's legs in one movement and arched his long body backwards in another to face Metro Man, slamming the tips of his fingers repeatedly into the palm of his other hand in a clear and frantic "time out" signal.

Metro Man's eyes had gone wide as he slammed on the brakes, but by then it was too late; he was already going too fast and this wasn't something either of them had prepared for. Megamind had unlocked the crab's legs, hooked his thumbs together in front of him, and done something with his hands that should have made the machine leap into the air – but he had only done it with one hand. The effect was that the four legs on the left snapped straight while the four legs on the right tried to jump, and the battle suit did a one hundred eighty degree flip and crash-landed upside-down with all eight legs twitching in the air. Which, of course, it really hadn't been built to do, but it _had_ caught the oncoming Metro Man on his way down and slapped him out of the air and out of the way.

Megamind had clawed his way out of the sparking, smoking wreck, suit torn, eyes wild. The girl had still been standing frozen in the middle of the road when he dropped onto the pavement and stared at her as if she'd sprouted a second head. "Have you gone_ insane?_" he had shrieked, flailing his arms to indicate the twisted wreck behind him, the street, the sky. The battle suit's legs twitched some more as he moved his arms, an orchestra of grating machinery sparking in time with a mad conductor. Hopping up and down in spastic flaily fury, Megamind managed to grit out, "What—_possessed_ you—to run out in front of _that?_"

Then Metro Man had slammed into him, throwing him to the ground a few yards away. "Get off the road!" Metro Man had shouted over his shoulder as he'd zoomed to drag Megamind to his feet.

A rumor had started after the fight that the people standing nearest had heard Megamind mutter, "Kids these days," and that Metro Man had responded with a shrug and a, "Tell you what," before tossing him into the side of a building, but most people agreed that any such claims were totally ridiculous and did not bear repeating.

Bradley crosses his arms over his chest. "You were _there_, Velasquez."

Mercedes scoffs. "Oh come on, _everybody_ _knows_ he just didn't want to go in for murder. Speaking of which…" Her gaze sharpens and her sudden smile doesn't reach her eyes. "Have you just _forgotten_ that he killed Metro Man?" She raises an eyebrow at him, and he looks away. "It's been over a year, now, and I have yet to see any initiative from anybody to even _attempt_ to exact some sort of penalty. And the last time I checked, 'It was an accident!' wasn't a valid court defense." When Bradley doesn't say anything, she continues, encouraged. "Is everybody in this city so damn fickle that we'll all just bleat happily along after whatever freak is willing to throw a few punches in front of some cameras?"

Bradley sighs and opens his mouth, then blinks at something over her shoulder and offers up a huge fake smile that looks more like a grimace. "Heyyyyy!"

Mercedes turns and sets her jaw defensively, but Megamind is just standing there with his hands in his pockets and an awkward smile on his face. "Yeah," he says slowly, "If you think that calling me a 'freak' is going to bother me…" He trails off and shakes his head. "Sorry. I got used to that one _ages_ ago. We're talking _grade school_ ages ago."

Mercedes manages not to look at all abashed. "Yes, well. I think you'll notice that I made a fairly valid point."

Megamind inclines his head in an agreeable nod. "And I think," he says, "that you'll notice I'm not arguing that point." His voice is light and pleasant, and Mercedes blinks.

Megamind smiles suddenly. "Right then!" he declares, and pulls a plastic ziplock bag out of the pocket of his coat. "Let's get this show on the road! RS2K12, come!"

The bot _thaums_ and emerges from where it's been nosing around in a tangle of shrubbery, zips up to its master and circles him with something that looks a lot like enthusiasm – Megamind has to lift his arms a little to keep the bot from running into him. "Hey, whoa," he says, laughing. "We're working here, you little doof, you're going to make us look bad!" He plants one hand squarely on the sparking dome and points at the eyestalk with the other. "_Settle_." The sternness of his voice is somewhat ruined by the fact that he looks like he's trying very hard not to laugh.

RS2K12 _thaums_ again and hovers, bobbing up and down in the air. It makes a harsher sound than the few Bradley's heard calling to each other before – lower, roughter, almost rattling – and if Bradley hadn't known better, he would have sworn the thing sounded _impatient_. Megamind grin grows wider and he plants both palms on his thighs, bending forward and beaming at the robot. "Yes yes yes," he says, and holds up the bag. The sparks inside the bot's dome go wild and its eyestalk quivers. "_Yes_. Wanna play Find the Wrench? Find the Wrench? Huh? Yes you do. _Yes_ you do. Ah-ah, no," he adds warningly when the robot _thaums_ loudly and starts to circle him again. It stops and hovers. "Good. That's a _good_ evil cyborg. Yes."

Megamind unzips the bag and goes to one knee to look the bot in the eye, and his face goes very abruptly and unexpectedly serious. He drops the master-to-friendly-dog tone. "Okay, mark me," he tells the bot, and holds up three gloved fingers. It immediately stops bobbing in the air and watches him. "Three rules. One." He pauses for a moment. "New Wrench. You can't cheat on this one, you don't have its signature in your database." The bot's eyestalk flickers once, and Megamind folds down a finger. "Two. Priority Alpha. Stream all related information to all bots not currently on Watch or Guard." He takes his phone out of his pocket with his free hand and unlocks it, then holds it out to RS2K12. The three police officers lean forward.

"…Is that a QR code?" Jones asks, astonished. Megamind doesn't reply. RS2K12 scans the phone display with its eyestalk, then blinks twice, and Megamind puts his phone back in his pocket and folds down another finger

"Three," he says, and hesitates for just an instant before enunciating clearly, "_Primum non nocere_. The exceptions were in the streaming info, but I'm green-lighting an immediate temporary shutdown of any individual or group that attempts to override them." _Thaum_, says RS2K12, and blinks three times. Megamind half-smiles. "Good. Now, one last thing." He lowers his hand, then takes a small, silver picture frame out of his pocket and shows it to the bot. "This is the wrench. I know your visuals tend to fritz a lot, I want you to rely on smell," he says, and darned if he doesn't sound like he's trying to reassure it, "but _if_ you see this boy, mark me – Guard. Protect. Call for backup and send one of the A-7s to find me, _do not_ leave the target. Got all that?"

The bot makes a twittering sound and tilts sharply forward, knocking into Megamind's forehead and throwing him off-balance. Jones inhales sharply and takes a few steps back, one hand on his weapon, but Megamind just laughs and pushes the brainbot away, then gets to his feet. "Okay," he tells it. "Go get the wrench!"

The clear dome blinks once like a camera flashbulb and the robot zips down the walk. Megamind immediately pulls out his phone again and slides it open, thumbs blurring on the keypad, green eyes intent on the small screen.

The three officers look at one another. Finally Bradley clears his throat. "So…what happens now?"

"Hang on."

The silence that descends is awkward and broken only by the tak-takking of Megamind's fingers on the keypad. Mercedes stares at his hands and cannot help but ask. "So d'you play an instrument, or something?"

"Nnnnope…" Megamind sticks his tongue out a little, brow furrowing in concentration. "…I just have good reflexes…" He scowls and gives his head a little shake, mutters something under his breath. "You have to be quick in my…line…of…" He stays like that for a moment, lower lip held lightly between his teeth as his thumbs move even faster, "…work," he finishes, and grins, stabs the screen with a finger. "Done!"

Jones blinks at him suspiciously. "What did you just do?"

"Oh, nothing." And then, probably realizing how that sounds, Megamind clarifies, "A bit of a trick with any surveillance cameras not on a closed circuit and some basic facial recognition software. And a mass text. Had to see if anybody knows anything."

Jones' face goes carefully blank and Mercedes's lip curls, but Bradley just looks confused. "What? Who? Wouldn't we have heard something if they did?"

Megamind snorts. "From_ my_ contacts? I doubt it." Then he sighs and drops his phone back into his pocket. "As far as what happens now goes…I've done all I can for the time being. It's your scene, now."

Bradley and Jones look at each other. "Not much of a scene," Bradley admits. "We were just here to collect the missing persons report and get some data on the kid's description. What was all that stuff with the QR code? Find the wrench?"

Megamind grins a little bit. "Oh, that. Right. That's a game I play with them. With the newer runs, the visual runs, it operates like 'fetch.' I throw a wrench – oh don't look so surprised, wrenches are _perfect_ for throwing – and they catch it and bring it back. But the older runs are more fine-tuned than that. Minion and I used to hide tools around the Lair and have them try to smell them out."

Bradley's mouth twitches as he tries not to laugh. "And the QR code?"

"Detailed instructions for any bot that might locate Maxence before RS2K12 does."

"_Hey, listen!_"

The officers jump, and Megamind looks surprised. "That was fast," he murmurs, and checks his phone.

_nada in d mx, sum boyz mayB putN n wrk uptwn_

He frowns, but doesn't ask about what "work" the boys are putting in. If the Duke of York says there's nothing in the mix, then anything after that isn't important.

Mercedes grits her teeth. "_That's_ your text message alert? Navi?" She shakes her head.

"That's just evil," Bradley protests, and Megamind glances up.

"Hullo there!" He's already texting a reply. "I'm Megamind. Incredibly Handsome Criminal Genius and Master of All Villainy, emphasis on the _Villainy_." He looks back at his phone as he finishes the message. "…Gang…question mark. And send. Anyway, sorry, I'll put it on vibrate."

"_Hey, listen!_" This time even Megamind jumps and stares down at his phone, then up at the three officers. "Is there some kind of action happening tonight I wasn't aware of?" he asks, confused. "I didn't see any new graffiti."

"Not that we know of," Mercedes tells him.

Megamind shrugs. "Must be negotiations or something," he mutters. But when he slides the phone open, he frowns even harder than last time. Bradley leans forward, craning his head around to read the reply to whatever Megamind had sent.

_all kool here u ask DoY boys yet_

_Mass txt_, Megamind replies. _Asked everyone, no word_.

He slides the phone closed and looks up. "I don't like it," he says quietly. "Something's up. The Dukes haven't heard anything." His phone buzzes again and he glances down – a second text from Lancaster. _U got a 20? Im bord_. He half-smiles.

_I'll let you know_, he replies, hits send, and looks up again to find Mercedes looking at him dubiously. "What?"

"Why do you have the Dukes' numbers in your phone?"

He shrugs. "I grew up in a prison," he says shortly. "I know everybody in the system. And I don't have their numbers in my phone, either."

"But you—"

"I told you," Jones interrupts. "He remembers everything." Then he looks at Megamind. "So according to you, we're supposed to just sit tight and wait until your machine calls you?"

Megamind nods.

Jones stares at him. "With no information? Nothing to go on? We just _sit and wait?_"

Megamind blinks at him and tries not to get too angry. He understands that the police aren't used to his help, he understands that many of them have very personal grudges against him, and he understands that sitting and waiting goes against what they've been trained to do. He also understands that, in their experience and as far as most of them know, he has historically been little more than a dangerous nuisance, just a half-mad inventor with a criminal bent. Megamind himself has put time and energy into maintaining that image, so he understands perfectly well that trusting him to be competent and serious after so many years of watching him fail – most of those failures accompanied by bright lights and fanfare – is difficult for them.

The police force is just another branch of the city's government, really. Megamind has spent the past few months attending meetings, planning, arguing, designing, proposing, and generally putting his hand into every aspect of the Metro City Rebuild Project. And, for the most part, the city's officials and various boards and cabinets have come to recognize that he is a lot less insane than they had previously supposed. But the police have been intimately acquainted with Megamind for all of his life, and he fully expects that gaining even some of their trust is going to be just as much work as keeping his previous reputation.

So he'll just have to start now.

"Look, I'm not asking you to trust me," Megamind says frankly, and drops all acts. He stands and talks as normally as he can – no extravagant gestures, no wild facial expressions. It's not something the police are used to seeing, from him, and he's hoping to maybe catch their attention. "I'm not even asking you to work with me, and I apologize if I gave you that impression. I came here tonight because I knew I could do more than you could at this time, so you and I are going to have to work alongside one another for the time being. You want to find this kid, I want to find this kid – we have a common goal, but we don't have to work _together_." He stops talking and looks steadily at each of them. When no answer is forthcoming, he continues, "As I said, I've done all I can. As far as I'm concerned, you should go and do whatever _you_ can. And I'll help you do it," he adds, "if you'll have me."

Jones stares hard at him for a long moment, then nods. "All right," he says brusquely. "Tell me why we should trust you."

"You shouldn't." Megamind raises his eyebrows a little and shrugs, but that's all. "As far as you know, I'm an unknown variable. I'll give you my word that I'm on your side, but I don't expect you to actually believe me."

Jones nods again, but his expression remains as unreadable as before. "Fair enough. So tell me why you think you'd be of use to us."

If Megamind hadn't wanted to try to start building trust – if this were a one-time thing, or if the events of the past year hadn't taken place, he might have said something like, _Helloo-oo, genius!_ and pointed at his head, or snorted and asked how he _wouldn't_ be of use. As it is, he returns Jones' nod, an acknowledgment that he understands why the officer is asking him these questions. "I'm smart. I'm strong. I have resources coming out of my ears. I have contacts and connections in just about every underground group in Metro City and much of the surrounding area. I even have a few international connections, but I don't think they'll be of much use in this case." He pauses for a moment as if considering. "I also refuse to work for you in any official capacity, so if anything happens that would reflect poorly on you or your people, I can take the fall for it and your reputations will remain intact."

Mercedes speaks up, her tone as guarded as Jones'. "You're a vigilante. A wild card."

Megamind levels his gaze at her. "That doesn't mean you can't benefit from my amorality." He waits, but Mercedes and Jones just look at each other. After a moment, Mercedes cocks an eyebrow. Jones shakes his head a little. Megamind watches them for a few seconds more. "So, am I working with you or am I working alone?"

"That depends," Jones says slowly. "If we say we'd rather stand away from you on this one, and you find something out, are you going to withhold that information?"

Megamind shakes his head. "Like I said, I want this kid found. Withholding information from you wouldn't do any good."

Jones regards Megamind in stony silence for another long minute, and Megamind shifts his weight a little, wishing he could tell what the man is thinking. He tends to be pretty good at reading people, but Jones is a closed book. "Would you be more efficient working with us or alone?" For the first time, he smiles a little. "I want to find this boy, too."

Megamind starts to reply, then pauses. Some of the 'resources' he's thinking of using might be difficult for the officers to accept. "My efficiency would be the same either way," he says at last. He sounds cautious; he's trying to speak as delicately as possible. "But if you do accept my offer…you may be faced with some…ethical dilemmas? Further on this evening?"

"Whatever you're trying to say, say it," Mercedes says flatly.

"Lancaster is bored," Megamind says, equally flatly, looking at her. "And I think he could be of use to us, depending on where the kid turns up and when."

Jones' expression, which had been almost thoughtful, immediately slams closed again. "We can't work with him. And he won't work with us, he might even try to attack us if we show up with you. We'd have to try to bring him in."

"Or call a truce," Bradley says, speaking for the first time. All three of the others turn to look at him, and he flushes a little and crosses his arms over his chest, switching to a more defensive posture. "Look, you both said it," he snaps. "We want to find Maxence. And either way, whether we work with Freak or not, he's gonna be bringing Lancaster into the equation. Right?" he asks, and glances at Megamind, who shrugs and nods and, again, does not protest to being called 'Freak.' Bradley nods too and looks back at the other two officers. "Okay, so our choice is not whether or not we have to work with one of the Dukes – our choice is whether or not we want the MCPD to be affiliated at all with whatever outcome occurs. I think we all know," he continues, sounding more than a little bit exasperated, "that, no matter what we do, he's gonna get there first." He points at Megamind. "You've seen his tech. You heard what he said to that thing. He's got the whole Host out looking for this kid—"

"Not the _whole_ Host," Megamind mutters, trying not to look embarrassed. He doesn't get a lot of people arguing for him, and he almost never gets recognized as being at all competent.

Bradley stumbles a bit and glances at him. "All right, fine, he's got host of the Most…" he pauses. "Most of…fuck, _whatever_. But you see my point, right?" He looks back and forth between Jones and Mercedes, both of whom appear to be leaning towards grudging agreement. "We can send every free officer we have out searching, but Megamind will still get there first. And when the newspaper comes out tomorrow, which headline do you think will look better for us: '_Megamind and West Reds rescue missing child, MCPD nowhere to be seen_,' or, '_MCPD buries hatchet, teams up with ex-villain and West Reds to rescue missing child_'?" He stops and looks at them, daring them to disagree. "One of those headlines implies that we're bunch of incompetent duffers who hide behind rule books, and the other one tells people that we will do _whatever it takes_ to get the job done and protect the people of Metro City. I, personally, would rather be affiliated with the latter assertion."

Megamind stares at him. He hadn't expected that kind of speech from any of Metro City's finest, and he _really_ hadn't expected Bradley to be so articulate off the top of his head.

And apparently, Bradley isn't done. He squares his shoulders and faces Jones head-on. "You know, Sir, I remember I was about to graduate from the Police Academy just before Metro Man died and the city went to shit – no offense," he adds quickly, glancing at Megamind again.

Megamind holds up his hands and shakes his head, signals for Bradley to continue. The wording the officer used hasn't escaped him, though – _Metro Man died_, not, _he killed Metro Man_. It's a small nuance and probably unintentional, but it means a lot to Megamind. More than he'd like to admit.

"Right, well, I remember watching the news and thinking, wow. Wow. A full police barricade, helicopters and SWAT team armed to the teeth, couldn't stop one guy– _one guy_ – and a_ mechanical gorilla_ from taking over the city." He sucks his teeth for a moment, blinking very rapidly in agitation, and Megamind thinks that this is something that has probably been bothering the young man for a while. "That," the young officer finishes, "is _pathetic_."

He stops talking, then, and looks around to find Megamind studying him, an odd little smile playing around the corners of his mouth. "You're not from here, are you?" Megamind asks.

Bradley shrugs. He still looks irritated, but he doesn't look irritated at Megamind. "I'm from Manhattan. Why?"

_Because you see me objectively_, Megamind doesn't tell him. _Because the only person I know who is from Metro City and wasn't taken in by the whole charade is Roxanne Ritchi, and I'm pretty sure that's only because she saw more of me than anyone else ever did. My Random Acts of Villainy were specifically designed and carried out over the years to inspire fear and hold the citizens in thrall so that my authority would never be called into question_. And it had worked, too. No one had noticed how many jobs his destruction had created. No one had noticed that he went out of his way to avoid hurting people – even if they had, no one had dared call him out on it. The few who had tried, had only tried once; he had made sure of that. Nobody except the newcomers and Roxanne.

"No reason," he says lightly. "Just a hunch."

"All right," Jones says, and they both look at him. He doesn't look happy, but he does look resigned. "We'll follow you."

"You don't need to _follow_ me," Megamind begins, but stops when Jones bristles, brown eyes flashing dangerously.

"Don't you dare stand there and lie to me," the older officer snaps. "You're the reigning power in this city. Everybody knows that your word is final. Nobody disobeys you. And in this case, you're the expert, and we'll follow you. So tell me," he finishes. "What do we do?"

Megamind smiles, wide and white. It isn't one of his catalogued grins, either – it's a real smile, and it shows. He honestly hadn't expected Jones' support, and the fact that Jones has actually agreed to go along with him has given Megamind no small measure of respect for the man. Jones still doesn't like him and doesn't trust him, but he's willing – as Bradley had said – to do whatever it takes to get the job done. Megamind knows how hard it is to ignore deep-seated prejudices and sentiments. And he also knows that thanking Jones will only irritate him.

So he just smiles. "We wait."


	4. Chapter 4

Here we are, chapter 4! Sorry it took so long – this chapter gave me _issues_, although hopefully it is better than my last chapter 4 (remember that? Yeah, that failed kind of spectacularly, didn't it?). And, _hoy_, so much research went into this one. Dialects and slang and organized crime and group dynamics, I don't even know anymore. I still am not sure that this would hold up under the scrutiny of anyone who has experience in the area, but I've done the best I can (and if you have any recommendations or corrections or any input in general, please, for the love of metrocity, let me know).

You people, I tell you what. You people are amazing. I love you. Just throwing that out there. I am also throwing gluten-free cookies out there. Help yourselves! *flings cookies and runs*

…I admit I am kind of liking this "posting as I finish" thing. Gives me more time to proofread and add more detail. Might stick with that for a while. ...Is there too much detail? :|

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

Megamind is not a patient person, but he is very used to waiting. Experiments take time, after all – some of them take a _lot_ of time, some of them take _days_ – and he can't just push a button and finish up whatever he's doing so he can move on to the next experiment or project. Everything he owns, he has made himself – the Lair, all his machines, all his notes. Minion helped, of course, and things had picked up quite a bit when Megamind had finally gotten around to programming the brainbots to perform complicated tasks. But the big projects, like his battle suits and the invisible car and the Doom Spider – those he had made with only Minion, and almost no help from the brainbots. Megamind's battle suits had usually taken several months to complete, and could take weeks or months to repair; contrary to popular belief, Megamind does not have a room at the Lair filled with spare suits. Those things are expensive and time-consuming and he'd much rather build something really showy and useful, like, say, a death laser, than spend all of his time welding and tinkering with wires for the sake of something that he could very easily die in.

But he is meticulous, and obsessive to a fault when it comes to detail, and he is a firm believer in the idea that if something is worth doing, it's worth doing right – so he is accustomed to having to wait. He has tried to cut corners and rush things before, and that has _never_ worked out well. He has the scars to prove it.

Megamind stirs for the first time in an hour and pushes up the sleeve of his coat, glances at his watch. Nothing. Sighing a little, tugs his coat and sweater back down over his gloves and adjusts his scarf to cover his nose and mouth before burrowing his hands into his pockets and settling in again to wait, wishing it were warmer. It's late October in Michigan, and the night has skipped merrily past chilly and settled comfortably into bitter cold. A quick glance up at the moon tells Megamind that snow is on the horizon. He can smell it. He leans a little against the porch railing where he has been standing sentry.

Cecile is still in her chair, staring straight ahead, her daughter already asleep upstairs. Jones is pacing the porch. Mercedes is sitting by Cecile, saying nothing, offering silent support. Bradley has been messing with his phone for the past hour, but when Megamind finally shifts position, Brad puts the phone away, comes over, and sits down on the top step of the porch. He looks up at the blue alien.

"Never thought you could stand that still for this long," he comments. Megamind glances down. "You're always moving. Every time I've seen you, you've been doing something."

Megamind shrugs. "Sometimes there isn't anything to do."

"Yeah, but when you said 'wait'…I dunno." Bradley sighs and folds his arms over his chest, clamping his hands in his armpits and shivering a little. "_Frick_, it's cold."

"Snow soon," Megamind says quietly, looking back up at the moon. "Later tonight, probably. Maybe tomorrow."

Bradley snorts, and Megamind looks down at him to find the officer grinning up at him. "The ring around the moon? You actually believe that old rhyme?"

Megamind frowns and finally sits down on the step as well, peering curiously at the officer. "What old rhyme?"

"When there's a ring around the moon, rain or snow is coming soon," Bradley singsongs, then shrugs. "I always figured it was just an old wives' tale."

"It isn't always accurate, but it has basis in fact," Megamind tells him. He pulls his knees to his chest, curling his hands together against his ribs for warmth and tucking his sharp chin down over them. He should be wearing a hat, but he had foregone one this afternoon because he hadn't expected to be out this late and he does not wear hats well. "The rings are caused by the refraction of light through ice crystals six thousand meters up." He sniffs and pulls his head back to rub his nose on his hand before curling back up again. "Light from the sun reflects off the moon, then refracts twenty-two degrees through thin cirrus clouds in the upper atmosphere."

Bradley looks at him for a moment. Megamind sounds almost as if he's talking to himself, as if he isn't really paying attention to what he's saying or who he's talking to. His eyes are half-closed and his breathing is slow, and in the shadows cast by the moonlight and the surrounding light pollution of the city, Bradley can see that he's actually rather gaunt. "You tired?"

Megamind chuckles and rouses himself a little. "A bit," he says. "I don't sleep much." He pauses, then heaves a sigh and leans forward to look up and down the street, frowning. "It shouldn't be taking this long."

Bradley frowns and opens his mouth to reply, but that's when Megamind's phone buzzes loud in his pocket against the porch steps and they both jump. Megamind moves lizard-quick despite the cold and his apparent lethargy, and has his phone out almost before Bradley notices him moving. "Your bot find something?"

Megamind jerks his head to the side and slides his phone open, thumbs blurring as he texts. "One of Lancaster's boys just called him…one of the others got jumped trying to do a pickup. I'm sending RS2K12 to check it out," he says, and closes the phone. He looks at Bradley. "Metrocity is too big," he explains. "There's a lot of ground to cover, even for brainbots, and they're not technically allowed to trespass on private property."

"Isn't most of the city private property?" Bradley pauses, then asks carefully, "Also, since when do you care?"

Megamind flashes a smile. "There are certain places I just don't go, certain places I've agreed not to go. That's the only private property I recognize."

Then his phone buzzes again, and this time it's _ringing_, and Megamind has it out and up to his ear in under a second. "Hey." There's a pause, and then he sits bolt upright, glaring in angry confusion. "That don't make sense. Shit, it where he always go. He OK?" Then his features go hard. "Green light. _Madre_." He pauses again. "Yeah, I'm in."

He glances over at Bradley, who mouths, _What happened?_ Megamind waves at him to shut up. He looks very grim.

"What, you think I stupid? Got some busters, though. Change your mind any?" He listens for a moment. "Three."

Then he snorts, but he isn't smiling. "Aight, be real, though. Come with power. Yeah, later."

He hangs up and stands, checks his phone, and a tight smile finds its way onto his face. "Okay. Yes. We got him. RS2K12 just confirmed." He brings his watch up in front of him, using his right hand to press a combination of buttons to call up a blue-glowing projection of a computer keyboard in the air in front of him. A partial street map of the city floats upright just beyond it. Megamind is aware that this looks strange – his left arm is crooked in front of his stomach as if he were lifting his wrist to check the time, but he's typing passcodes and instructions and coordinates in midair with his free hand, calling out two squadrons of A-12 brainbots.

The location he wants on the map is farther south than the displayed area, so he flicks at the projection and it scrolls rapidly upwards until he flicks again to stop it. With his index finger, he outlines a small area of the map – the line that follows his finger is slightly brighter than the rest of the city streets – and then hits "Enter" on the keyboard to activate the A-12s. That done, he simply covers the face of his watch for a few seconds to terminate the projection.

He turns around. Jones and Mercedes are already ready, and Bradley gets to his feet, still blinking at Megamind. "Where'd you learn to talk like that?"

Megamind glances at him. His watch beeps – Minion is trying to call him, but Megamind ignores it for the time being. "I did grow up in a prison." Mentally, he berates himself – he usually tries not to slip back into his first dialect, but he had been surprised and he hadn't thought about it. Speaking properly is more than just second nature to him at this point – it's part of who he is – but when he talks to Lancaster or York or their boys or any of the inmates at the prison, it's a little more difficult. Luckily, Bradley doesn't press the issue.

"What's the plan?" Jones asks, and Megamind motions towards the cars parked out on the street.

"I'll fill you in once we're moving," he says. He almost adds that they should take the sedan rather than the cruiser, but manages not to say anything. Bradley might be new, but Megamind has known Jones for nearly all of his life, and he knows that the older officer is experienced and intelligent and doesn't need to be told what to do. And, sure enough, Jones nods once and leads the way to the sedan. Megamind doesn't really _trust_ anyone other than Roxanne and Minion, but when it comes to getting the job done, he knows who he can rely on.

He just isn't sure if they'll let him rely on them.

Jones pulls open the driver's side door without asking if anyone else wants to drive, and Mercedes takes shotgun – the automatic way they move tells Megamind that they've done this before many times. Bradley opens the door to the back seat with some reluctance, and it takes Megamind – who is already in his usual spot on the passenger side – a moment or two to realize that he's probably uncomfortable sitting behind the bars separating the front of the car and the back. He summons a grin when Bradley slides stiffly in next to him, and nods at the grate. "You get used to it."

Bradley blinks at him. "What?"

Megamind raps his knuckles against the metal cross-hatches, still grinning. "The great thing about these undercover patrol cars is that most of the older ones were just normal cars that were repurposed, instead of being regulation vehicles made to look like normal cars. Lots of them just have the stupid grating screwed on." He slides his slender fingers through the grate and grips it, tugging back and forth at it, leaning his weight on it, testing his strength against it. He can see Mercedes watching him in the passenger-side mirror, and he winks at her before turning back to Bradley with a friendly shrug. He wants to keep the conversation as light as possible for as long as possible. "All you need is a Phillips head screwdriver and you're good to go."

Jones turns his laugh into a cough as the car pulls away from the curb, but Megamind hears it anyway. Bradley narrows his eyes, unsure of whether Megamind is joking or not. "And you know this because you just happened to have a screwdriver with you for a handy escape?"

Megamind opens his mouth, but it's Jones who answers. "There's a hidden compartment in the sole of his right boot. He never 'just happens' to have anything."

Mercedes snorts, and Megamind laughs. "Hey, now. Let me ruin my own mist-eek. Also, just look at the screws holding it in place." He points, cocks an eyebrow. "Not exactly rocket science."

"Are you serious?" Bradley says, staring at the back of Jones' head. "Is he serious?" he asks Megamind.

Megamind grins and leans down, twists the ring on the side of his boot like a combination lock, and then simply removes the sole of the shoe entirely and holds it out for Bradley's inspection. There are about twenty tiny interchangeable heads stuck into the rubber of the heel, each in its own special pocket, and a slender black-and-silver handle in another pocket in the middle. "Multitool!" he exclaims happily. "Never go anywhere without one. Here, see – Phillip's head, Robertson, Mortorq, Posidriv, hexalobular, hex socket, flat-head, torque set."

Bradley shakes his head. "I'll be damned."

"You should see what kind of screwdriver I have in my _left_ boot," Megamind tells him, then leans forward and addresses Jones before Bradley has a chance to respond. "We're going to be headed south, towards the five-twenty Danger Zone."

Jones mutters a curse under his breath, but turns right. "They've got a _kid_ in there?"

"Who _are_ these guys?" Mercedes demands. She twists around in her seat to look at Megamind, but he's busy locking the sole of his shoe back in place.

"Unfortunately, I'm not sure," he says, then straightens back up and tugs at his coat to straighten it. He's grown used to civilian clothing, but he simply cannot abide the way that it bunches when he does anything other than sit or stand. "Neither of the dukes has claimed any affiliation. Besides, neither of them would dare pull this kind of stunt inside city limits."

Jones glances at him in the rearview mirror and raises his eyebrows. "I didn't think kidnapping was against the rules."

"Kidnapping minors is," Megamind says, just as Bradley asks, "The rules?"

Megamind looks back and forth between Mercedes and Jones. "Nobody's told him?"

"I've heard people mention the rules," Bradley says. "A few times, actually. I just haven't gotten around to asking."

Jones glances at Mercedes. "Oh all right," she mutters, then turns back to Bradley. "There are certain things that just don't happen in Metro City. The dukes do not endanger the general public. Gang violence is restricted to gangs _only_ – collateral damages are out of bounds."

"No, no, I got that," Bradley tells her hurriedly. "I noticed that pretty early on. I just haven't been able to figure out exactly how they're regulated. Or why anybody bothers with them."

Jones snorts. "Nobody has, _exactly_. But we've got a pretty good idea." He looks at Megamind in the rearview again. Megamind twiddles his thumbs and smiles at Bradley.

"Blue here is buddies with both of the dukes," says Mercedes. "As far as we know, they do as he says."

Megamind moves his head from side to side and makes a 'so-so' gesture with one hand. "That's not _quite_ how it works," he admits. "I wouldn't say we're buddies. We're just business associates, and we have an arrangement to keep from stepping on each other's toes. Lancaster would say we're down with each other. That's all."

Bradley blinks. "And they abide by that arrangement?"

"The rules, yes."

"But _why?_" Bradley demands, sounding completely baffled. "I mean, sure, they're better organized than most of the gangs I've seen in the past, but it's nothing special."

Megamind grins again and leans back in his seat. This, like his financial position, is something he's actually very proud of. "I have a zero tolerance policy. If one of them knowingly and willingly breaks the rules, I remove him from power. I've only had to do it twice," he adds smugly, when Bradley's mouth falls open. "Both times for York. Lancaster's been smarter about the whole thing."

Bradley looks at Mercedes. "And everybody knows about it? The police?"

"The police do, yeah," she says shortly. "I dunno about 'everybody,' but it's sort of common knowledge, you know?" She jerks a thumb over her shoulder at Megamind. "We've been dealing with _him_ since he was an infant. We know how he operates."

"Nobody told me," Bradley protests, and Megamind and Mercedes let out embarrassingly similar snorts of laughter.

"Not many people from other cities join the MCPD," Megamind reminds him.

"You know the DZs south of the city?" Mercedes asks. "Cheapest real estate in town but nobody lives there."

Bradley nods.

Jones turns left and locks the doors. "Blue and Lancaster and the original York all had a meeting eight or so years back. From what I heard, Blue brought a map and outlined a bunch of the least-populated barrios of the city and told the dukes to keep all direct confrontations inside the boundaries."

"And they _listened to him?_" Bradley stares at him, then at Megamind. "They _listened to you?_"

Megamind fights back a smile. "Actually, I told them that they _would_ keep their conflicts within the borders. I find people will obey more readily if you eliminate the option of disobedience. The borders of each Danger Zone are permanent and clearly labeled as such." He shrugs again. "The whole arrangement works out well for everyone, really," he says. "In the past, civilians stayed out of the way, Metro Man kept crimes in general to a minimum, I kept everyone's attention firmly on me, and the Dukes made sure their boys followed The Rules."

"But you can't hold them accountable for every criminal's behavior," Bradley insists. "What if somebody breaks the rules? You can't replace a duke every time that happens."

"It does happen," Megamind admits, "and they said something similar when I, hah, 'proposed' the idea." His grin turns evil and he slips back into his old 'villain' persona for a moment. It doesn't take much – tighten the muscles around the eyes, tilt the head down, lift the shoulders, smirk like his life depends on it, and splay both hands in front of him so that only the tips of his fingers are touching. Even without the full panoply of villainy, Megamind knows how to carry himself. "I told them that if they couldn't control their boys, they weren't fit to call themselves Dukes. So they take care of the boys who don't play by the rules, and I don't interfere with their affairs unless I feel I need to or they ask for my help."

Bradley blinks at him and frowns. "But why would you even bother?" he asks after a long moment. "I mean. You were a supervillain."

"_The_ supervillain," Megamind corrects him. "And before you ask, no, it wasn't in my interest to let them run wild over the city. Evil though that would have been, it actually would have crippled me in the long run. You cannot have three major criminals operating in the same area and not have to deal with constant conflict. It simply can't be done. One of those criminals is going to establish dominance over the other two, and those other two are going to continue to fight him for dominance. _Unless_…" he prompts, motioning for Bradley to complete the thought.

"Unless…" Bradley stares blankly at him for a minute, struggling. Megamind waits, his smirk widening. "Unless…the dominant criminal…" He shakes his head. "I dunno."

"I made sure they knew that I was smart enough and strong enough to severely hinder their activities if they got in my way," Megamind says simply, and drops the villainous posturing. It's like turning off a light. He goes from diabolical supervillain to blue-skinned citizen in under half a second. "I also made sure they knew I wasn't really a threat to their activities, and that getting in my way _really_ wasn't in their best interests. And because my goals were sufficiently different from theirs, I was able to establish myself as an incredibly powerful mediating third party, which I did at the earliest possible opportunity to preclude any unfortunate prec-eedents." He smiles and spreads his hands. "As a result, the two major crime rings in Metro City have come to more closely resemble mafias or syndicates than street gangs. In times of real trouble, they can actually move more quickly than Metrocity's government." _Metro City_, he tells himself, being careful not to let his chagrin show on his face. _It's pronounced Metro City_. He's getting better about that, but he still messes up sometimes.

"And they didn't get any say in this?" Bradley frowns.

Megamind's smug expression turns confused. "Why on earth would I let them have a say?" He shakes his head. "This is a very precise game I'm playing, you know. If I allow any room for negotiation, pretty soon they'll be trying to walk all over me. As it is, I grant them almost total autonomy until they overstep their authority or try to color outside the lines, and then I step in and…_reestablish_, shall we say…the proper order of things."

Bradley is staring at Megamind with something akin to horrified awe. "So you're king of the underground."

"Not just the underground," Mercedes mutters. "Can you remember the last time the city government went openly against him? There's a _reason_ we stayed out of his way, you know. He's impossible to catch and he's impossible to stop. Metro Man was the only one who could really do anything against him."

Megamind pretends to study his nails and tries not to preen. "Not _impossible_," he says. "Just very, very difficult. And you will notice," he adds suddenly, looking up at Mercedes, "that even though Metro Man is gone, crime rates have gone back to what they were when he was still around."

This time, Mercedes doesn't look at him. She's probably trying to appear casual, but since she's been turning in her seat for most of the conversation and isn't anymore, it sets off a little alarm in Megamind's head. She's been waiting to ask a question, and Megamind knows it. He's pretty sure he knows what it is, too, and he'd prefer to get it out of the way sooner rather than later. "I did notice that," she says. "What's up with the brainbot patrols?"

Wrong question. Megamind is tempted to just let the conversation wander as it will, but he's going to need Mercedes on his side tonight; he can't afford to go into a dangerous situation with someone who is so set against him. So he throws her a line. "I look after what's mine."

"Yes, but why?" Her voice is frustrated. "Why didn't you just go back to destroying the city after you defeated Titan? And don't give me that 'change of heart' bull you keep feeding to the press. I don't buy that."

_There it is_. Megamind sighs and rubs a hand over his eyes. He doesn't like explaining himself to people other than Roxanne or Minion, since they're the only ones who know the reasons behind the way he thinks, but he's going to have to at least try to explain to Mercedes. "Because if I went back to doing what I had been, it was never going to stop. I succeeded against Titan, which gave me an opportunity to try something different. And I thought…why not? I didn't have anything to lose, not really. Certainly nothing I hadn't already given up on trying for." Then he smiles. "It's been working out okay, so far! I'm almost done fixing the damage I caused."

"So why do this?" Mercedes demands. "Why try to find Maxence?"

Startled, Megamind answers honestly, without thinking. "Because kidnapping children is cheap, petty, and scary for the child involved." Then he blinks and flushes a little. He hadn't meant to explain himself that much. "I mean. It's." He stammers a bit, then squares his shoulders. His eyes narrow. "I have standards. And I was just in the right place at the right time."

"So what happens when you're done?" Jones asks. His tone is still neutral and guarded, and his eyes in the rearview mirror are wary. "With the Rebuild Project, I mean. You can't possibly think you can try for full hero status."

Megamind snorts. "I doubt it. I'm no hero. Besides, have you ever _looked_ at me? I'm not hero material. I look evil."

Mercedes shrugs and mutters something that sounds like, "Yeah, okay," and Jones nods and doesn't argue, but Bradley looks at him. Looks him up and down. And he wants very badly to say something like, _You don't think that might just be the leather and the spikes?_ Because what he sees is a skinny guy with a thin, tired face, a neat goatee, and the funkiest pumpkin scarf he's ever laid eyes on. Not a villain. Not even _close_. Not unless he _wants_ to look like one, because it's fairly obvious to him at this point that Megamind isn't a villain until he wants to be. Or thinks he has to be.

"So what's the plan?" Mercedes finally asks into the silent car.

"We park three blocks out of the danger zone," Megamind tells her. "We go in on foot, stick to the rooftops and similar high ground as much as possible. I've got two squadrons of A-12 brainbots falling in around the target area. We'll meet up with Lancaster and his boys half a block down from the corner of Orange Street and Lime." He twists his watch, and Bradley ducks to avoid the spreading flare of Megamind's collar.

"What's special about the A-12 run?" Jones wants to know.

Megamind grins at him. There's a reason he hasn't used the A-12s in any official schemes yet. They're his ace in the hole, his hidden stick of dynamite. "They're dark and they're silent," he says, and doesn't mention that they're also built for complex aerial maneuvers. He checks his phone and nods to himself – the A-12s are almost in position, and he has a text from Roxanne. "They also rely more heavily on programming than A.I." He opens the text.

_Mn wnts 2no whats hapNg. Ur nt answerin yr watch. Shd i b worried?_

_Found Max, going to get him_, Megamind replies, mentally smacking himself for forgetting to contact Minion, and tells himself to try again to convince Roxanne to get a cellphone with a full qwerty keyboard. Deciphering text lingo isn't difficult, but it is annoying.

"Then the brainbots _are_ intelligent," Bradley exclaims, and Megamind looks at him curiously, as if to say, _Well, of course_.

_Somthng bout danjrus bots? A12?_

_I'll be fine, really._

_Mn dosnt thnk so_

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Megamind mutters, and activates his watch. He's had enough of texting. "Minion? Are you there?"

There's a pause. Then, "Sir, do you think this is going to turn into a combat situation?"

Bradley recoils and Mercedes turns around again with raised eyebrows, and Megamind winces. Jones just shakes his head and sighs. "Minion, Code: There are three other people in the car with me. Could you _try_ to be a little more delicate?"

"Code: Sorry, Sir."

Megamind rubs his forehead, shuts his eyes. "You know I'll do everything I can to keep this from escalating," he tells his friend. But he doesn't blame Minion for being worried. They have only needed to use the A-12 bots once before, and that had been an act of desperation.

"Should I come and help?"

Megamind has to take a couple of seconds to think about that one, because it's a fairly loaded question and as such is the closest to a real code that he and Minion have. He can say 'No,' but since the A-12s are on the move, Minion will take that to mean, "I don't want to risk you getting caught in any crossfire." But if he says 'Yes,' then Minion will drive down and risk getting caught in the crossfire. And Megamind really doesn't want that to happen, but he also doesn't want Minion to know that there might be crossfire to get caught in, and…

Then again, his hesitation has probably already spoken volumes. He sighs. "No. No, Minion. You shouldn't. You should stay home and take care of…things." _Try to keep Roxanne from worrying_. "Stand by in case I call for you."

For a moment, there's a hiss of static. Then Minion says, "_Please_ be careful." He leaves off the 'Sir,' which is a good indicator that he's genuinely upset. Megamind feels like a heel.

"If it helps, Lancaster will be there," he offers.

"That's better than nothing," Minion admits, but he still sounds reluctant.

"And I have three cops with me," Megamind adds, and allows a trace of sly amusement to find its way into his tone.

"…You what?" Minion sounds totally astonished at that, and Megamind laughs into the watch. "Who? Which ones?"

"Jones and Velasquez," Megamind tells him. "You don't know Bradley, I'm afraid. He's new." Grinning now, Megamind holds his arm away from his face, angling the watch toward the middle of the car.

"Oh!" Minion exclaims. "Hi, Officer Jones! Hi, Officer Velasquez!"

Jones actually smiles. "Hello, Minion," he calls over his shoulder.

Mercedes shakes her head, but can't quite keep from grinning. "Hey, _Esbirro_. How's life?"

"And welcome, Officer Bradley," Minion says cheerily. "Life is good, Officer Velasquez, thank you!"

"Uh," says Bradley, staring at Megamind's arm, "Thanks?"

Megamind pulls his wrist back to his mouth. "You see, Minion? I'm perfectly safe."

"_You_," says Minion, "are _never_ safe." His tone is mostly joking, but Megamind knows he's at least half serious. Then another voice crackles through the connection, too far away from Minion's communicator to be intelligible but still instantly recognizable to Megamind, who stiffens. He ignores it, hoping, praying that none of the others will say anything about it. "I don't like it, Sir, I don't like it at all. If you're just going after this kid, why run out the combat bots?"

Megamind sighs. "One of Lancaster's boys went to do a pick-up in the DZ where we're headed. He was shot three times in the chest before he could get close to the place."

"But there aren't any pick-ups scheduled for today, Sir," Minion says, confused. Megamind is silent, and it only takes Minion a couple of seconds to make the connection. "…He was set up?"

Megamind still doesn't answer – he doesn't want to reply honestly in front of the police, but lying to Minion really isn't in his nature. As it turns out, though, he doesn't need to say anything. Minion understands his silence for exactly what it is, and his voice turns panicky. "Sir, this is bad. This is very, very bad. Come home. Turn around and come home."

Megamind glances out the window and swallows. He has to hang up. If he doesn't stop talking to Minion soon, he'll lose his nerve – he hates doing this to his friend, he really does. "We're getting close, I have to go."

"Sir? _Sir!_"

"I'll be careful, Minion," Megamind announces, and terminates the connection. His watch beeps again almost right away, but he sits on his hand to muffle it. He feels terrible.

"…We aren't _that_ close," Mercedes says. Her tone is pointed and her eyes are narrow, and Megamind looks away. "You didn't have to lie to him, you know. Lying to the only person who cares whether you live or die is kind of—"

"Thank you," Megamind interrupts her. He isn't smiling, and Bradley has to wonder what he's thinking, because he's definitely thinking _something_ – his blue lips are set in a thin line and his jaw is clenched, but his green eyes are calculating.

"For…"

"For referring to Minion as a person."

Mercedes huffs a little. "Oh, _he's_ definitely a person," she says. "_You're_ the one I'm not sure about."

If Bradley hadn't been watching, hadn't been looking for it, he might not have seen Megamind's tiny, satisfied smile. But when the alien speaks, his voice is bitter. "Yeah, well," he mutters as he turns to look out the window, "I'm used to that."

Conversation in the car comes to an awkward halt, after that, and Bradley can't help but think that was probably Megamind's intention.

And it's weird, because Bradley can see where Mercedes is coming from – Minion obviously cares about his master, and Megamind's actions could be construed as indicative of a blatant disregard for his friend's concern. But he can also tell that Megamind didn't _like_ excusing himself so quickly, and that he's not happy.

_There's a lot more going on here than meets the eye_, he thinks, studying the way Megamind is sitting – hunched, with his knees together and his elbows tucked against his sides.

Truth be told, part of the reason Bradley had come to Metro City was that he was confused about the dynamic between the citizens, the villain, and the hero, and nobody seemed able to give him a satisfactory answer about how it all worked. Why didn't the citizens just move away if their lives were constantly in danger? Why didn't Metro Man just kill Megamind and end the stupid rivalry once and for all? Why didn't Megamind just kill Metro Man? He's obviously smart enough to figure out how, so why didn't he? Why was that reporter lady always so blasé about the whole thing? None of it made any _sense_.

And it had made even _less_ sense when he had finally lined up an apartment and moved in and started asking around – _why not just leave, why stay and risk Megamind taking over the city?_ The usual response was something like, "Metro Man will protect us," or, "It'll never happen." People seemed to mostly regard Megamind as a kind of nuisance until he actually made a move, and then they screamed and ran in terror until he was behind bars again. When he broke out of jail and disappeared – sometimes for weeks at a time – the citizens treated it like business as usual. And everyone who lived there claimed that Metro City, despite its size, was a safe place to live.

The most astute answer Bradley had received had come from a little girl in pigtails at a bus stop, waiting to go to school. "You have to admit he doesn't try very hard," she had said.

Bradley still isn't sure which 'he' she had been talking about, and he thinks it's kind of telling that it doesn't matter. Because she was _right_, and that was what had been bothering him. Neither Metro Man nor Megamind had ever really tried to get rid of the other, but they acted as if they were breaking their backs trying to kill one another. It was ridiculous. It was _insane_.

And now, here he is, sitting next to the one living person who might be able to answer his questions, and he has no idea of how or even what to ask. He had never thought he would ever have the opportunity, although he had certainly thought about what Megamind or Metro Man might say if he ever _had_ gotten the chance to ask them. He had kind of expected Megamind to be more…gleeful. More diabolical. More _evil_. He hadn't thought the evil persona was an act, when he had seen Megamind on the news before. But he really doesn't think that this persona is an act, either, and that's downright confusing. And the more he thinks about it, the more certain he becomes that _this_ is the real Megamind. Ruler of the underground, de facto King of Metro City.

The question Bradley wants to ask is no longer, "Why are you so bent on destroying the city?" What he _wants_ to ask is, "Where the hell do you get off actually being a decent person?" But he can't ask that, despite the fact that Megamind seems like one of those special people who would react positively to that particular question.

So what he asks instead is, "Why did Minion say there wasn't a pick-up scheduled for today?"

Megamind doesn't move, doesn't look at him. "Because we know the schedules in the various underground circles, and we know when they change. If I didn't know those kinds of things, I would have inadvertently stepped on too many toes and my various incar-siri-ations would have been miserable."

"What's with the weird pronunciation?" Mercedes demands.

Megamind slowly turns his head to look at her. "If I said I had a speech impediment, would you feel bad?" He sounds curious.

"Probably not."

Megamind nods. "Which means you're just trying to get under my skin, so I'm not going to bother with a response." He smirks and folds his arms over his chest. "Too bad, so sad. I don't make fun of your accent, Officer Velasquez – I'll thank you not to make fun of mine."

Bradley interrupts before Mercedes can say anything snarky in response. "Right," he says hurriedly, "so – okay, I get why a villain would need to know what his friends—"

"Associates."

"Associates, right, yes, sorry – are doing. But you said you aren't a villain anymore, so…" Bradley trails off with a questioning shrug. Megamind looks at him then, and lifts an eyebrow.

"I did?" he asks, and frowns and blinks a few times. "I don't think I said that. No, I'm sure I didn't say that."

Bradley hesitates. "But…you're _not_ a villain anymore, right?"

Megamind shrugs. "That's immaterial. Doesn't matter. To Lancaster and York and others like them, I am what I have always been." He meets Bradley's gaze and holds it. "A superior, neutral force with absolutely no interest in what they're doing."

Bradley blinks. "Then…you don't even know what what's-his-name was picking up?"

Megamind shakes his head. "As soon as I start collecting that information, people are going to start coming to me and trying to buy it off me."

"Or worse," Jones adds unexpectedly, making them jump, "they'll blame you for not alerting them to their enemies' movements."

"…Exactly," Megamind says, and stares a little at Jones. "Yes. And that's just _awkward_, not to mention dangerous, because it would make me everybody's enemy instead of everybody's neutral and nonthreatening associate. Much safer to just keep out of everyone's way."

"And on that note," Jones announces, and pulls over to the curb and parks. "Here we are. Three blocks away, you said?"

"Three blocks," Megamind agrees, and is out of the car before Bradley is even finished unbuckling his seat belt.

Jones leans over and catches Mercedes' elbow before she can open the door, looks her in the eye. "You need to tone it down," he says in an undertone. "You really aren't helping."

She glares at him and jerks her arm out of his grasp. "I hate him."

Jones nods but doesn't back down. "You've made your point, but we're working together with him on this. Deal with it. That's an order." He pauses, then adds, "It's been seven years, Mace. Time to put old ghosts to rest."

That's all Bradley hears before he, too, is able to scramble out of the car and wander over to Megamind, who has his phone out again and looks like he's texting. "You okay?"

Megamind glances at him. He looks honestly surprised. "Of course," he says. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's – I mean, Mercedes is kinda…abrasive, but she's actually not so bad once you get to know her."

"Oh," says Megamind, and his surprised expression slams closed. "That. She has her reasons." He shakes his head and turns back to his phone, and that's when Bradley notices the machine hanging in midair in front of him.

It's shaped _kind_ of like a brainbot, but it's shadow-black all over and sleek, with none of the visible gears or plasma-globe dome or distinguishing features that the other brainbots have. It doesn't bob up and down like the others, either, and it doesn't _thaum_ – it just hangs there, motionless and silent and fast-looking. The only indication that it's not totally inert is a bright blue line of light flickering in patterns across the front of its dome.

Megamind looks up as Jones exits the car. "This is Tax," he says. "He's been giving me a report. Apparently everything is quiet in the DZ so far – the A-12s haven't made contact with Lancaster yet, but they know where he is."

Jones levels a steady gaze at Megamind. "In the car," he says. "Minion said this was a set-up."

Megamind flinches. "Yes," he says carefully. "Yes, that's entirely possible, and that's why I've called out the A-12s."

Jones' eyes narrow. "So we could be walking straight into a trap." Megamind nods. "And you didn't see fit to mention this to us? This could be dangerous."

Megamind looks at him. "It _is_ dangerous," he states, raising his eyebrows. "And, frankly, I don't care. I know who I'm working with, and I know I can rely on them. I know the area. I have more technology than our enemies, and more experience with these sorts of situations than I care to admit."

"I think we know what kind of experience you have," Mercedes tells him, and Megamind rounds on her, green eyes flashing dangerously.

"You _really_ don't." Something in his face or voice warns Mercedes not to argue. "You really, really don't. Look, if you want to get back in that car and drive away now, I won't stop you. I could really use your help, but Lancaster and I can pull this off without you if we have to."

"So we're expendable," Mercedes snaps.

Megamind stares at her, then turns haughtily away. "Enough. I'm not going to teach a pig to dance. Either follow me or leave, I don't care anymore."

He brushes past Bradley and moves down the sidewalk with surprising speed given his small stature, Tax gliding silently along by his left hip. Jones follows on Megamind's right. Casting a warning glance at Mercedes, Bradley trails after them, jogging to catch up.

"Do you know if the kid is alive, at least?" Jones asks under his breath. Megamind nods.

"The A-12s navigate by a combination of infrared and echolocation," he explains in an equally soft voice. "They've identified seven adults and one child in an abandoned row home on Pear Street. Maxence isn't moving, but he's definitely alive. I'd like to try to sneak in on my own – here, this way." He ducks down a narrow alley, footsteps echoing in the passage until he reaches a fire escape. Tax ascends, unfolds a pair of arms from a compartment on its ventral side, and pulls the ladder down far enough for Megamind to reach up and catch it. "Up here."

"What are we doing?" Jones hisses, following him up the ladder.

"The only other humans on the rooftops at the moment are Lancaster's boys," Megamind calls over his shoulder in a stage whisper. "Not so on the ground. Seven adults in the house, and at least fourteen more patrolling the area. They're armed. I don't want to run into them, thanks."

When they reach the top of the fire escape, Bradley looks around. The buildings in this area are close together, but not so close that he can reach the roof of the next one over from the fire escape of this one. Megamind has skipped over to the edge and climbed over the rail, hooking his left knee over it and bracing himself with his right leg so that he can lean out and peer in a darkened window, cupping his hands around his eyes to help him see better. He nods to himself, then curls his long body around and pulls off the sole of his left shoe, takes out something long and slim and glowing blue at one end. He puts his shoe back together, then aims the silver mechanical wand at the window latch. It hums.

Bradley stares. "You've gotta be kidding," he mutters, and Megamind grins at him.

"It manipulates magnetic fields," he says, keeping his voice low, "it isn't really sonic. And it isn't quite as ubiquitous as the one you're thinking of, but you'll notice the screws are holding the lock together on the _inside_ of this window, so I can't reach them through normal means." He glances back at the window and smiles brightly. "Done! Wait here." And before anyone can stop him, he has the window up and has disappeared through it. If he can get his head through a space, he can get the rest of his body through, too.

He tumbles onto the rug just under the window and freezes where he is, watching the bed for any sign of movement. Once he's satisfied that he hasn't woken whoever is sleeping, he gets carefully to his feet and edges toward the bedroom door. There are a terrible few seconds when he steps on a loose floorboard and it creaks loudly, and the sleeping human mumbles something and rolls over, but then their breathing slows again and evens out and Megamind makes his escape. He creeps down the short hall to the bathroom, pokes his head in, looks up, and grins. _Perfect_. He climbs up and stands with one foot on top of the toilet tank and the other one on the bathroom sink, and opens the skylight.

Unfortunately, it doesn't open far enough, and he has to unscrew the hinge and remove the pane entirely before he's able to fit his head through, and even then it's a tight squeeze. But he makes it, and then he's up on the roof.

It's colder up here, and windier, but Megamind's collar is already turned up so there's not much else he can do. He makes his way to the edge of the roof over the fire escape.

"This insane," Bradley is muttering. "This is nuts. What if he gets caught?"

"Never mind that, how did he get _in_ there?" Mercedes asks.

Bradley snorts and shakes his head. "It looked like a sonic screwdriver. He said it was magnetic."

Mercedes looks blank. "A what?"

"A sonic…oh, never mind."

"Ollo," Megamind says, and all three police officers jump and look wildly up at him. He grins and waves. "Here, one of you hop up on the rail and then grab my hand."

Jones moves first, stepping onto the railing by the wall and using the side of the building for balance, then gripping Megamind's slim wrist without hesitation and leaning on the alien's arm as he edges out over the alley. He glances up at Megamind. "Now what?"

"Give me your other hand." Megamind holds out his arm, and Jones grabs it. "All right," Megamind says, bracing his feet on the edge of the roof and adjusting his grip so that he and Jones are both holding each other by the wrists, "When I say 'go,' you're going to swing forward and push off the wall _as hard as you can_."

"You're out of your _mind_," Mercedes exclaims, but Jones just sets his jaw, adjusts his balance, and nods once.

"Go."

Jones lunges, swinging from Megamind's wiry arms, and kicks off the brick wall with as much force as he can muster. Megamind rises into a crouch and twists from the waist, heaving Jones to the right with all his might as he lets go with his left hand. The cop inhales sharply as he swings sideways through the air and up, but manages to catch the edge of the roof with his arm and leg and haul himself up onto it. He sits up almost immediately, regarding Megamind with grudging respect. "You're a lot stronger than you look."

Megamind is sitting half-curled with his legs tucked under him, leaning on shaking arms. He glances up at Jones and shakes his head. He's quick and tough, but heavy lifting has never been his forte. "I don't think I can do that again."

Jones nods. "Well, you don't have to. Come on." He kneels at the edge of the roof and reaches down for Mercedes, who stretches up and catches his hands with one of hers. Megamind grabs her other hand, and together he and Jones drag her up until she's able to grab the side of the roof and start to lift herself. At that point, Jones just reaches down and wraps a hand in the back of her jacket, hauling her bodily upwards while she claws at the tar paper until Bradley grips her ankles and pushes from below.

"Not sure why we didn't just do this with Jones," Mercedes grunts, finally kicking free of Bradley and dragging herself onto the roof.

Megamind doesn't take that personally. "It honestly didn't occur to me," he admits, panting. "I've been a one-man show for a while, and I don't really think about relying on anyone other than Minion. 'Scuse me, one more." He starts to lean forward to reach for Bradley, but Mercedes waves him out of the way.

"I got it," she says shortly, and Megamind nods and doesn't protest. Bradley makes it onto the roof without much more difficulty than Mercedes or Jones had had, and after the first two have had a chance to catch their breaths, Jones looks at Megamind.

"All right, we're on the roof." His tone is expectant.

Megamind nods and looks at Tax. The line of blue light appears again on the brainbot's front, flickering patterns of dots and dashes back and forth in a modified version of Morse code. After a few seconds, Megamind holds up a hand. "Enough," he says, and stands up, dusting himself off as he does so. Then he backs up a few steps and runs to the edge of the roof, leaps over the alley to the next building over and lands like a cat.

"Seriously?" Mercedes mutters. Jones shrugs, backs up, then runs and jumps. He stumbles a little as he lands, but the buildings are close enough together that he makes it over with plenty of distance to spare. Mercedes and Bradley are right behind him.

Megamind honestly hadn't expected them to follow him all this way, and he's a little uncertain about how best to proceed. Usually, just he and Minion would be along on this sort of venture – having three other people along is a new thing, especially because they're all looking to him to tell them what to do next. Megamind is accustomed to having to hold his own at town meetings and the like by now, and some of the more hands-on and technical boards have started to ask for his input on projects, which is nice. But this? This 'running around on rooftops at night in the cold and the dark'? This is a totally different environment, this is _Megamind's_ element, and he's not used to having anything resembling a team.

He knows he can't expect them to follow his lead without question, although they've been doing a pretty good job of that so far. He knows Jones, and he knows that Jones would probably be doing this whole thing much differently, and he's a little surprised that Jones hasn't tried to offer any input. He doesn't know Mercedes as well, but she's obviously very competent, too, and Bradley is game if nothing else. _Should I ask for their opinions?_ he wonders. _Try to even the playing field a bit?_ He is, after all, trying to be 'one of the people,' and setting himself apart the way he's used to doing isn't going to help his new image at all.

Still, he decides against it. He needs to run this one – if there's any dissent, it will waste valuable time and only prolong Maxence's wait. But he can explain what he's doing, a little bit more. He doesn't need to play this so close to the vest. He needs to at least _try_ to get the officers to trust him, and maybe if he shows that he trusts them, maybe that would help?

"All right," he says, and squares his shoulders. "Before we go any further, here's what's happening." He turns to the brainbot by his hip and points at the flat surface of the roof between him and the three officers. "Tax, I need a birds-eye view of the area." A wide beam of light from the brainbot's underside projects a bluish, almost ultrasound-looking array of streets and buildings onto the tar paper. "Wider," Megamind says, and rattles off a list of coordinates. The projection blinks out, then expands to his specifications. "Hold that."

Megamind crouches at the edge of the projection, points at a rectangle near his feet. "This is us," he says, looking up at Jones, who moves closer and frowns. Megamind taps another rectangle closer to the middle of the displayed area. "This is where Maxence is. He's on the third floor, in the attic. They've posted seven guards in the house – three on the ground floor, three on the second floor, but only _one_ with Maxence."

"They're expecting an attack from the ground," Mercedes murmurs, and Jones nods.

"Yes," says Megamind, "and that's why I'd like to try to go in from the roof. Now, Lancaster brought four of his boys, so –"

"Hold up." Bradley stops him, frowning thoughtfully down at the projection. "You said they had more guys patrolling the area?"

Megamind nods. "The A-12s are taking care of those as best they can, quietly."

"What do we have?" Jones asks, and Megamind glances at him. The man's eyes are narrowed, and he looks like he's thinking hard.

"The four of us along with Lancaster and his four make nine, and thirty-two A-12 brainbots – occupied at the moment, I'm afraid. And, as far as I know," Megamind adds, "the element of surprise." He pauses, then blinks and half-turns. "Hey-y-y, Lanc, you know I got eyes in the back of my head."

"Bullshit, man, you just got ears like a bat."

Megamind turns the rest of the way around and stands up, grinning broadly as one of the shadows on the roof detaches it from the rest and resolves into a stout man with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of a ragged duster. He's built like a fireplug – he's a little shorter than Megamind but half again as wide as Jones, and all of that width is muscle. He is also smirking a smirk that rivals Megamind's own, and the officers stay where they are, uncertain, as Megamind swaggers over to meet the Duke of Lancaster halfway.

Lancaster reaches up and wraps a thick arm around Megamind's neck, drags him down and scrubs his knuckles roughly across the alien's scalp before releasing him, and Megamind flashes a white smile and stands away, knocks the side of his fist on top of Lancaster's head and lifts a sarcastic eyebrow. "See you still haven't grown any, Short Stuff."

Lancaster fakes a jab-punch at him, grinning and scowling and making Megamind skip back. "_Mennnnte_, man, you still ain't learned to shut that quick mouth of yours. How you walking? Still set on going straight?"

"For the forseeable future," Megamind admits. Lancaster sends him a sharp, swift look, and Megamind raises a hand. "I know, I know," he says. "It won't affect your business."

Lancaster looks at him for a long moment more before he shrugs. "A'ight, we'll see how it goes. But hey, we need to re-negotiate, we can re-negotiate." He grins and catches Megamind's eye. "I'm a flexible guy."

Megamind snorts at the hidden joke. He is one of probably five people who knows that the Duke of Lancaster was once a trained acrobat. "You're a freak."

"And you the king of freaks hisself."

Megamind beams. "Darn straight."

"_Damn_ straight." Lancaster sniffs, proving that even the rough and ready get the sniffles when they have to go out and about in the cold, then claps Megamind on the back with a hand like a pie pan and looks over at the three cops, who have been watching this exchange with a blend of surprise, amusement, and outright shock. Lancaster glances at their badges but doesn't bat an eye. "You gonna introduce me to your buddies?"

Megamind looks at him. "You gonna play nice?"

Lancaster brings out a grin that he had probably intended to be charming, but it falls short of the mark. "Always do."

"I'm sure." But Megamind turns and skips back over to Jones and the others anyway. "Officers Jones, Velasquez, and Bradley," he says, pointing to each one in turn, "I'd like you to meet the Duke of Lancaster."

And, watching Lancaster approach the three police officers, Megamind feels an odd flutter of something in the pit of his stomach. It takes him a moment to identify it as hope. Is he nervous about this? _Absolutely_. But it needs to happen, and if it blows up in his face, he will pick up the pieces and continue on alone as he always does. And luckily, everyone else looks like they feel much the same way. Nobody holds out their hands to shake, but everyone nods in mutual recognition of each other's competence in his or her chosen field and turns their attention to the projection on the roof, and Megamind thinks that, all things considered, this might actually turn out fairly well.


	5. Chapter 5

Ooof. Yeah, so that definitely took longer to write than I had planned…curse you, life, always getting in the way (but still better than the alternative!). I'm graduating this spring, and interviews, and job searches, and school projects, and aaaaaaghhh. For what it's worth, I really hate _not_ writing.

My fics seem to have a habit of doing this thing where they write themselves, which is nice because it means once I get going I can churn out a few thousand words with no problem, but it also means they sometimes go in weird directions and usually end up being a lot longer than I anticipate. It also means that I have to have a few hours of free time in which to write, because I have a hard time maintaining continuity if I only have a few minutes here and there. (Which in turn means that if you find any errors, for someone's sake, tell me. I promise I will not be offended. I have no beta. You lot! You're my betas. Betafishies. All in your own little tanks so you don't fight or bite each other's fins off. Sorry. It's late and I'm sleepy and I've never actually owned a beta fish; I don't know if that's really what they do.)

Thank you all so much for bearing with me. I love you. Really. :)

Oh, and I still don't own anything. Well, except my OCs (14? I think I'm up to 14 now if we count Nibs (and we do)). I don't even know. Megamind and everyone associated with him copyright to Dreamworks.

Right. Bedtime. Yes.

**Chapter 5**

When Roxanne gets back to the Lair, she has her coat unbuttoned and her gloves off before she walks in the door, and one of the brainbots takes her things and disappears with them. At this point, that's routine, but the first time Roxanne had worn a coat to the lair and been accosted by a helpful brainbot she had nearly had a heart attack. She had still been thinking of them as fairly aloof little creatures – she had not yet realized the extent to which the brainbots help Megamind with his work. She had tried to pull away from it, and it had called for help from some of the other nearby bots, and Roxanne had finally given up fighting and yelled for Megamind. Roxanne can only imagine what she must have looked like, backing towards the door with her teeth bared, holding a full flight of brainbots at bay with a piece of rebar that had been leaning up against the wall.

"What are they doing?" she had demanded as soon as Megamind had come skidding into view, his panicked expression switching to confusion and then amusement in the space of a couple seconds when he had realized what was going on.

"They just want to take your coat for you," he had called.

Roxanne had frozen where she was, staring at him, and two of the bots had taken advantage of her surprise and flown over, one holding her collar while the other quickly unbuttoned her. And before she had been able to say anything, her coat was gone. "Wha…"

Megamind had been laughing openly at her by then. "They're not going to hurt you," he had said, between gasps. "My bots would never hurt you."

"I know, I just – what now?" Roxanne had cried, jerking her hands away.

"Your gloves! Give them your gloves!"

Yes, the brainbots had taken some getting used to – more than Roxanne had expected. But now she almost doesn't even think of them, she just unbuttons her coat and takes off her gloves on autopilot before she enters the Lair.

"Minion?" she calls, looking around.

"In here, Miss Ritchi!"

Roxanne follows his voice to the room across from Megamind's, reaches the doorway, and halts, feeling a little bit nervous – it's silly, given how much of her time she spends at the Lair these days, but she hasn't gone into Minion's room before. The door has always been closed. It's open now, though, and Minion is seated on the floor with a tape measure in one hand and a sewing machine on a low table in front of him.

"Hullo," Roxanne says, trying not to stare around, and Minion looks up, grinning.

"Oh, don't stand in the doorway," he says, motioning at her with the tape measure. "Come in! Where's Sir?"

"He, um." Roxanne shakes her head a little, trying to focus, but Minion's room is so far from what she had expected that she can't help but be a little distracted. "There was a…there was a thing."

She can't call it a bedroom, because she can't see a bed or what possible use Minion would have for one, but the room is comfortable and manages to be cozy despite its size – probably due to the lighting. If any of the lightbulbs are more than 40 watts, Roxanne will eat her hat. And since most of the light fixtures are old-fashioned lamps with beige-ish brownish shades, the room is pretty dimly-lit. Roxanne can't actually make out the far wall; it's too dark. But the near walls are covered, floor to ceiling and wall to wall, with shelving units filled with bolts of cloth in a wider variety of fabrics and colors than Roxanne had been aware even existed. The left wall seems devoted entirely to rolls of leather.

And the dress forms. They're _everywhere_, scattered all over the room without rhyme or reason and interspersed with three-legged stools of varying heights and making the whole area look a lot smaller. And they're all homemade, since most of Megamind's clothes fit him like a second skin and his body shape isn't close enough to that of a human to allow Minion to use pre-made forms, but they certainly aren't made of chicken wire or bent coat hangers. They look professional – really professional, molded and probably full of…sawdust or something, Roxanne isn't sure what, but she wouldn't be surprised. Most of them are wearing various works in progress.

It looks like Roxanne's mental image of an old-timey tailor's back room. An old-timey _supervillain_ tailor, which is kind of a weird thought because for some reason the mental image looks _steampunk_ – and as unconventionally futuristic as Megamind's appliances tend to be, none of them run on steam. Except for the kettle, but he didn't invent that and anyway it doesn't _run_ on steam as much as it just exploits several laws of thermodynamics.

She drags her attention back to Minion, who's just sitting there grinning at her, and she thinks maybe he looks a little bit smug. And not in the least bit steampunk. She clears her throat and waves a hand around at the shelves. "I like your…Room? Workshop? What do you call this?"

Minion laughs. "It's my room. I cleaned it up earlier today; it was an absolute _wreck_ before. What sort of a thing?"

Roxanne has to take a moment to remember what he's talking about. The sight of Minion's room has totally de-railed any and all trains of thought she'd had going when she had walked in. "Oh! Yes, there was a kidnapping. Megamind stayed to help with the investigation. I was going to go back and see if Bernard needed any help, but he wasn't…home…" She trails off, craning her head around to look at the mess of multicolored rags in Minion's sewing machine. "What are you working on?"

Minion ignores the second part in favor of looking baffled about the first. "Bernard?"

Roxanne forces herself to focus. It isn't easy. "Sorry, I'm all over the place today," she apologizes. "Yeah, we met up with him while we were walking – it was a complete coincidence, you won't believe what happened." Quickly, she tells him about Bernard's strange behavior, Megamind's promises, and Bernard's decision to relocate.

Minion's eyes nearly bug out of his head.

"Wyoming?" he repeats, incredulous. "What on _earth_ does he want in Wyoming?"

Roxanne shrugs. "He wouldn't say."

Minion frowns and shakes his head. "I smell something fishy, and I don't think it's me."

"Maybe he has family there," Roxanne suggests. "It could be for any number of reasons. It really wasn't our business. We…"

She stops, frowning now herself. There's something happening just outside her range of hearing, some sound, some shift in pitch. A quick glance at Minion tells her that he hears it, too, but that doesn't do much for Roxanne's confidence. Minion looks horrified.

He shoves away the tray with the sewing machine on it and scrambles to his feet, whirring and clanking as his massive robotic body bends, pushes, and lifts. He's hurrying out the door almost before he's completely off the ground, and Roxanne is right behind him, dashing down hallways at what feels an awful lot like random.

"What is it?" she exclaims, just as Minion hooks a hand on a doorjamb and uses it as a pivot, swings himself into a side room with a crash. The room is tiny, hardly bigger than a closet, and there's a mop and a bucket and a shelf of cleaning supplies. "Minion?"

"Stand back."

Standing just inside the door, the fish reaches forward and flips up a panel on the rear wall and punches in a numeric code, and a large portion of the closet floor shunts down and slides out of the way. The cleaning supplies clatter down the brightly lit set of metal stairs that had been hidden by the secret door.

Minion starts forward, but Roxanne puts a hand on his shoulder. "What's going on? What's that noise?"

Minion looks over at her. "If it's what I think is," he says, "Sir may be in trouble. Come on, I'll explain on the way." He sets off down the stairs. After a moment, Roxanne follows.

"Have you ever wondered why Sir and I moved out of the prison?" Minion asks. The hallway at the bottom of the stairs is narrow and extends straight ahead; there are no doors, no turns. The walls, floor, and ceiling are bright white, and Roxanne almost wishes she had sunglasses. The sight of it is almost eerie – white, straight hallways do not belong in Megamind's dark, labyrinthine Lair.

Minion is still talking. "It was our home, you know. Not much of a home, but it was the only one we had ever had. The warden initially tried to place us in foster care, but Sir wouldn't have it. And after Sir returned from Washington, the warden stopped fighting and let us stay. I think Sir still views the prison as home, really. He can actually relax there." Minion's footsteps and voice echo down the hall. "He was always very…protective of me. He didn't want anyone to know I could think or talk. The only people who knew were people he thought we could trust – the warden, and some of the inmates."

Minion turns to face Roxanne, pressing the button on the front of his suit that will call Megamind's watch. "One of them broke that trust after he was released. This was just before Sir graduated from high school. The man's name was Paul, and he went straight to the PHED, told them all about me. They came while Sir was in school, and they took me away with them."

Roxanne's eyes go very wide. "Did they…"

"They were very nice about the whole thing, actually," Minion admits. "Very civilized. The man leading the retrieval team said that he wasn't really allowed to offer Earth citizenship to outworlders without conducting certain physical and mental examinations first. But he added that the department tended to make exceptions for outworlders with family members – or a cultural equivalent – who were already citizens of Earth. He hinted that I probably qualified."

Roxanne smiles, a little uncertainly. "So…he let you go?"

"Well, no." Minion smiles a little in response and starts walking again, but his eyes are worried. "I had to write and submit an official report regarding the nature of our connection. My representative said it would take a while to go through, because the department was reluctant to contact Sir for a reference. Something in the bureaucracy. I don't know. It dragged along for a few weeks – I couldn't leave, but they weren't allowed to do anything either – and none of us really knew how long it was going to take. I think they were hoping I'd just give up. But then Sir made his move, and it was sort of a moot point after that." He reaches the end of the hallway, and pushes open a white door. It leads onto a sort of balcony.

Carefully, Roxanne steps around him and looks out into a vast, spheroid cavern, the walls of which are covered in a honeycomb of hexagonal recesses. Most of the nooks are empty and dark, but a section near the bottom left is glowing blue, and a thin line of small, bullet-shaped machines are gliding silently up to the roof of the cavern from the lit section and disappearing out a tiny round hatch. Roxanne can see stars in the sky beyond, and realizes that she's probably looking at an open manhole.

The machines are sleek, silent, and made of some non-reflective black metal, and they fly steadily, as if on an invisible track. Are they brainbots? They're the right size and more or less the right shape, but they're too dark, and Roxanne can't make out any robotic arms.

"What are those?" she asks. There's something not _right_ about them, something she doesn't like. All of the brainbots she's seen before have been unique in some way – different spikes or scraps of metal welded on like tail fins or mohawks or spoilers. But these…these are all the same, as far as Roxanne can see.

Minion looks unhappy. "A-12 brainbots," he says. "We had been making brainbots for a while, and we had started setting up the Lair, but we hadn't…we didn't _live_ here. It was our hideout, it wasn't home. The brainbots maintained it while we were away. I've always liked them. They're quirky. We'd invent new ones when we were bored, for fun. But the A-12s are…well, _they_ aren't evil, but they're the ones that started his reputation as a supervillain and not just a troublemaker. They got people's attention." Minion makes a frustrated sound and wrings his hands a little. "Sir's war with Scott had started to turn into something like a game, and his brainbots would help him out and Scott would manage to work around them, but the A-12s…" He pauses as the last of the brainbots trails up and out. "At least he didn't call _all_ of them," he mutters, and then goes back to what he had been saying before Roxanne can ask. "He didn't put them up against Scott. He aimed them at the government – scare tactics. And it _worked_. I'd really rather not go into details, but we've never had to use them since then."

Roxanne bites her lip. "So…if he's calling them out now…"

"He's preparing for trouble. A lot of trouble." Minion touches the button on his suit again. "And he isn't answering his watch. I don't like it."

Roxanne takes out her phone. _Mn wnts 2no whats hapNg. Ur nt answerin yr watch. Shd i b worried?_

"I'm sure he'll be all right," she tells Minion, but he shakes his head.

"If all he needed was a bunch of battle-ready brainbots, he could have summoned the B-9s. This is bad. He's in trouble."

Roxanne checks her phone. "He says they found Max and they're going to go get him."

Minion grits his teeth. "Ask him why he needs the A-12s."

A long moment passes.

"He just says he'll be fine," Roxanne murmurs, typing a quick reply. She's starting to worry, too, but she tries to remind herself that Megamind is a professional and knows what he's doing. Besides, if he built the A-12s without Minion's help, there could be something about the run that Minion doesn't know about, something that makes the A-12s preferable to the B-9s.

When Megamind speaks into the chamber, Roxanne jumps.

"Minion? Are you there?"

Minion hesitates, glancing at Roxanne. He can tell that she's concerned, and he feels bad; he hadn't meant to make her worry, but he's not very good at hiding his emotions. "Sir, do you think this is going to turn into a combat situation?"

"Minion, Code: There are three other people in the car with me." Megamind sounds disgruntled. He also sounds like nothing is wrong. "Could you _try_ to be a little more delicate?"

Minion has to smile at that, despite the fact that his spines are tingling uncomfortably the way they always do when he's nervous. "Code: Sorry, Sir."

There's a brief pause before Megamind's voice crackles through again. "You know I'll do everything I can to keep this from escalating."

"Should I come and help?"

It's amazing. Minion has just said that he thinks his boss might be going into some kind of terrible danger, and most people wouldn't offer to help with something like that – many of those who would, wouldn't be sincere about it. But Minion actually sounds _eager_.

The silence that follows his offer drags on, though, and Roxanne already knows what Megamind is going to say. Minion's face falls.

"No. No, Minion. You shouldn't. You should stay home and take care of things. Stand by in case I call for you."

Minion shuts his eyes. "_Please_ be careful."

"If it helps, Lancaster will be there," Megamind offers, "And I have three cops with me."

Minion's eyes fly open again, his astonished gaze darting around the room. "You what? Who? Which ones?" Megamind is laughing – it's staticky and tinny, but it's a genuine laugh and Roxanne feels a little better.

"Jones and Velasquez. You don't know Bradley. He's new."

Roxanne doesn't recognize any of the names, but if the look on Minion's face is anything to go on, he definitely knows who Megamind is talking about. "Hi, Officer Jones! Hi, Officer Velasquez!"

"Hello, Minion." The voice is masculine and sounds like it's coming from a long way off. Another voice calls Minion something Roxanne can't quite make out, and asks him how he's doing.

Minion looks a bit more like his normal, cheerful self. "Welcome, Officer Bradley. Life is good, Officer Velasquez, thank you!"

"You see, Minion?" Megamind says. "I'm perfectly safe."

Minion turns and begins to walk slowly back up the corridor. Roxanne goes along after him, glancing back over her shoulder at the huge chamber of brainbots.

"_You_ are never safe," Minion says, grinning.

Roxanne speaks up. "Minion, ask about the A-12s."

Minion catches her eye, nods. He keeps his tone mildly inquisitive, as if he's only curious, and they hear Megamind sigh heavily.

"One of Lancaster's boys went to do a pick-up in the DZ where we're headed. He was shot three times in the chest before he could get close to the place."

"But there aren't any pick-ups scheduled for today, Sir," Minion says. If the schedule had changed, someone would have had to notify Lancaster's man – but it must have been a last-minute change, or Megamind would have been informed. And kidnappers prepare ahead of time, so it couldn't have been last minute. "Wait. He was set up?" His eyes widen a little, and his voice rises in pitch. "Sir, this is bad," he says flatly. "This is very, very bad. Come home. Turn around and come home."

"We're getting close, I have to go."

Minion stops walking. Roxanne nearly runs into him. "Sir? _Sir!_"

"I'll be careful, Minion," Megamind says, and then the static cuts off. Minion presses his lips together and jabs at the button on his suit, but nothing happens.

He looks around, turning in small circles. He lifts his hands to the top of his dome briefly before dropping his arms again and crossing them over his chest. Then he turns around the other way, pressing a hand to the front of his dome and then rubbing it up over the back. His eyes are huge, and his mouth is clamped shut, and the luminescent globes on his spines are twinkling nervously.

"Ohhhhhh," he moans. If he were human, he'd be biting his nails. "Oh this is bad this is bad this is bad. I should…I need to find him, I should go – I should –"

Roxanne's quiet voice interrupts him. "You should stay right here."

Minion whirls and stares at her. Roxanne is standing with her arms folded over her chest. "Miss Ritchi, you can't _possibly_ be serious."

"I am serious. I'm dead serious." She shakes her head and ducks around him, heads for the stairs at a brisk walk. "Just because he's only ever used them to break you out of a secure government facility doesn't mean he's in any kind of spectacular danger _this_ time. He could just be…I don't know, taking precautions."

Minion trails along behind her, looking stricken. "I should _be there_," he frets. "I should be taking care of him. My _job_ is to look after him!"

"He'll be fine, Minion!" Roxanne exclaims brightly, sounding much more sure of herself than she really feels. "He's a smart guy. He can take care of himself."

"No he _can't_." Minion stops her when she reaches the top of the stairs, staying a few stairs down so that he can look her in the eye. "I failed him once, Miss Ritchi. I don't think I could…if I failed him again, I don't know what…"

Roxanne's face softens. "Oh," she says softly. Megamind has told her about what had happened after she had left him that night, before his battle with Titan, and before Roxanne really realizes what she's doing, she puts out a hand and rests it on the side of Minion's dome. "That's what this is about?"

He looks irritated. "Don't 'that's what this is about' me," he says. "I would be jittery even if we were still villains and still kidnapping you all the time and none of this had ever happened, and you know it. Now, he has some kind of plan and I don't know what it is, but he knows me and I know him and – with all due respect, please don't take this the wrong way – _you don't_. Not about this. I'm going to find him, and I'm going to help him, and _please_ don't try to stop me."

Roxanne blinks and drops her hand. For a moment, Minion worries that she's going to try to convince him to stay at the Lair, but then Roxanne presses her lips together, nods, and steps back. "Okay," she says. "You're right. This is your show, not mine. Do you want me to come with you, or stay here?"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Two minutes after the group has started making its way towards the abandoned residence where Maxence is being held, Bradley has decided that the way Megamind moves over rooftops is not natural and is, actually, kind of disturbing. The alien runs as if he's on solid ground, as if he isn't constantly risking falling three or four stories. Initially, most of the roofs had been flat rather than peaked, and all five people had run more or less steadily, leaping the gaps between buildings without too much trouble. Tax had been able to carry everyone over the streets that separated the blocks once they had been dehydrated.

"You have to be careful," Megamind had told them once they were over the first major gap. "The less time you spend dehydrated, the longer your nerves will take to come back online, physiologically speaking. I don't want you to spend too much time dehydrated, because you could probably do without being able to feel pain in this situation. That being said, by the time we reach Maxence your pain thress-holds will be so high they might as well be walls, and you could hurt yourselves without realizing it." He had looked straight at Jones. "So be careful, old man."

Jones had cracked a grin for the first time that night. "I'm not an old man, young pup." Megamind had grinned back, then whirled and led them over the next set of rooftops.

But now they're entering the more residential part of the Danger Zone, where the buildings are crappy tiny row houses and the roofs are peaked, and the humans are having a difficult time moving forward. Not so for Megamind, who had cleared the first gap in a flying leap, arms back and knees up. He had twisted his hips a little to use his knees as shock absorbers and gone into an immediate crouch as he had slid – surfed, really – down the roof towards the gutter, one long arm out-flung for balance, the fingers of his other hand trailing down the crumbling shingles to keep himself steady. He had come to a halt just short of the gutter, then turned to look back at the group of humans, jerking his oversized head in an obvious, _well, come on then_ motion.

"Chris'sake," Lancaster had muttered, and had backed up a few meters and then run at the edge of the building. He had dived as he'd reached it, planting his hands at the very edge and launching himself into the air, landing in a very painful-looking somersault along the ridgepole and then coming into a crouch with one foot on either side of the peak of the roof – Bradley had made a mental note to remember that the mobster is made of equal parts kangaroo and ninja despite his girth.

Lancaster had raised a hand to the back of his head and looked at Megamind.

"You see what I mean," Megamind had told him, and Lancaster had nodded. Then he had been forced to scramble out of the way when Mercedes had landed roughly and nearly crashed into him; he had flung out a hand to catch her on reflex, then motioned for her to follow him further down the roof so that Bradley and Jones would have room to make the jump. They had both made it, but barely.

And they have to be quiet, which isn't easy. It's downright difficult, in fact; running and jumping is not a quiet activity, especially when you aren't sure of your footing. They manage all right, but they're all breathing hard by the time they reach the last building before they hit the final street separating them from their target. Two figures sit side by side on the ridgepole, a third perches on the chimney; the fourth lounges on a gable that looks out over the street. The Duke of Lancaster hails them with a wave and a gesture to be quiet, and the figure on the chimney nods. Nothing is said until everyone is close together.

"Plan?" the man on the chimney asks in a low voice, barely above a whisper, and looks at Megamind, who nods a greeting.

"The kid's being held in the third house down, in the attic," Megamind replies in a similar tone. "Lanc is gonna lead you down the same way you came up, and you gonna go to the house across the street. What all burners you got?"

"Pete's carrying a trey eight, I got my 'gage, and Gabe's got an AK."

"A .38, a shotgun, and a semi," Megamind murmurs, then looks up and glances around in obvious confusion. "Hold up, who's holding aces?"

"Ain't holding aces, _Mente_." The man on the gable gets to his feet, wild pale hair sticking out in all directions. He shrugs the massive crossbow he had been holding in his lap into place on his back – the straps are custom-fitted and allow him to slide the bow smoothly into position in front of him without doing anything more than raising his left arm. He pats the straps, lifts half of his mouth into a crooked, yellowish smile. The toothpick dangling from the opposite corner of his mouth doesn't fall. Megamind isn't surprised in the least; he has never seen Sundown without that toothpick. "This ain't a burner, _technically_ speakin'."

Megamind's face lights up, and he stretches out a hand to grab the younger man by the shoulder. "Sundown," he says, "am I glad to see you. Heard you got taken out a while back."

Sundown shrugs, grips Megamind's forearm in greeting. Despite his precarious footing, he doesn't wobble. "Had to skip town for a bit, but I'm back now."

Megamind eyes the crossbow warily as he drops his hand. "That a new bow?"

"Yeah." Another quick grin from Sundown, and he lifts his arm and the crossbow sweeps around and clicks into place in front of him. "Remembered what you said 'bout draw strength. You gonna like this." He unhooks it, passes it up to Megamind, who turns it over once and then cocks it, raising an eyebrow at the reload speed.

"How d'you cock it when you've got it on the belts in front of you?"

"Tha's what this's for." Sundown holds up a metal rod with a hook on the end, then hangs it back on his belt. "The bow's been modified."

For some reason, Megamind looks almost cautious as he nods his approval and hands the weapon back. "Right," he says slowly, and Sundown's broad grin widens further. "…Good. So, you're going across the street, and when I flash SOS in the top window, you gonna make like you're just hacked off about these guys knocking your friend. I'll go in from the top, take out the guard, bring in the busters," he jerks his thumb at the trio of police officers standing awkwardly behind him, "who'll sweep 'em out while you distract them." He waits for a moment, then nods. "We'll go with that," he murmurs. "All right, boys. Move out. We'll wait for you before we move."

The men nod – Sundown aims a jaunty salute in Megamind's direction before slinging his crossbow back into place over his shoulder – and start to make their way back down to the ground, heading through a gable window into the house below. Megamind turns around to face Lancaster so that the others won't see, bends his head to speak into Lancaster's ear.

"I want as many alive as possible," he says softly. "Tell your boys. They listen to you."

Lancaster's dark face turns stormy. "You miss the bit where these guys broke the rules? You miss the bit where they dusted CJ?" He steps back so that he can look Megamind in the eye. "I take care of my people."

"I know." Megamind hesitates, trying to figure out a way to explain his viewpoint quickly but in a way that Lancaster will understand and agree. It's a difficult situation. Lancaster wants to avenge his friend, and the others are probably out for blood as well – Sundown _definitely_ is. Megamind wants to minimize loss of life, if only because he doesn't particularly care for killing, but he'd also like to know what the kidnappers were thinking. And then there are the police officers to consider. Megamind really has no way to keep everyone happy, here, and he sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. "Something…smells bad, I don't know. _Cuidado_, yeah?"

Lancaster looks at him for a moment longer, then nods curtly. "See what I can do," he says, and turns to follow his cohorts through the window.

"Okay," Megamind whispers, more to himself than anything else, and wishes for the millionth time for the ability to fly. Then he shakes himself a little and summons Tax, dehydrates the three officers and then himself.

The next thing he knows is he's crouching on the roof of the target residence next to three other blue cubes, and he looks sharply up at Tax. The A-12 brainbot has nowhere near the capacity for logical reasoning that RS2K12 or Nibs have – but the bot had dropped him on the target instead of just carrying him across the street, which it should not have known to do without a direct order from Megamind. Maybe it had made the decision based on tactics? It certainly was more efficient to be carried directly to the target than to have to scramble and run over rooftops. Part of the reason Megamind hadn't simply had Tax carry everyone before was that the blue dehydration cubes glow, and could have alerted the enemy to their presence – the rest of the reason is that the A-12s simply don't have enough artificial intelligence for Megamind to trust them. Tax shouldn't have carried him any further than across the street. It shouldn't have been _able_ to.

Then again, the A-12s do have _some_ artificial intelligence. _Maybe I've underestimated them_, he thinks. He signals Tax to go and re-join the others, which are probably still out clearing the streets if they haven't finished yet, and the dark brainbot glides away and disappears.

Megamind shrugs out of his coat and puts it over one of the cubes before rehydrating it, concealing the flash of blue light as best he can and steadying the human on the ridgepole. Jones shrugs Megamind's hands away, rolling his eyes at the lack of disorientation – he had commented earlier about how he had expected to feel dizzy, and how weird it was that rehydration was just like opening his eyes. Megamind presses a finger against his lips, signaling, _quiet, quiet_, and points down at the roof with his other hand.

Jones nods, and keeps very still while Megamind rehydrates the other two. That done, Megamind turns and scans the house across the street for signs of movement, but he doesn't see anything.

Someone taps his shoulder, and he jumps, turns to see Jones pointing at Bradley.

The young officer frowns and mouths something. Megamind shakes his head. Bradley scowls and curls his first three fingers in, turns his palms up with thumbs and little fingers extended, drags his hands down a few inches. _What now?_ he mouths again.

_Wait_, Megamind tells him, trying to remember his signs. _I go first. Then them. Then you_.

Bradley nods just as Megamind's phone buzzes in his pocket – Lancaster is in position.

Megamind carefully shifts so that he's crouching on the ridgepole, then springs forward to land on the peak of one of the two gables. Moving slowly, he swings himself around and peers through the window.

There's a lamp, and a man seated at a card table playing some kind of game by himself. Lying against the far wall is a little boy with brown hair, tied at the wrists and ankles with duct tape. There's a strip over his mouth as well. The boy's eyes are closed, but he's breathing. He's also shivering, which isn't surprising given that he's wearing a turtleneck sweater and no jacket, but at least he has gloves on.

_You don't kidnap children_, Megamind thinks as he pulls his de-gun._ Not in this city. Not in Metro_. He is almost certain that the window will squeak if he tries to open it, so he's not even going to bother trying. He dehydrates the panes of glass and then the window frame – luckily, the man in the room is so absorbed in his game that he doesn't notice the flashes of blue light, doesn't hear Megamind catch the blue cubes and stow them in his pockets. And he doesn't hear the ex-villain creep through the window and across the floor on velvet feet. Years of breaking and entering have taught Megamind to move absolutely silently when he wants to.

The man doesn't even notice he's been dehydrated. That's how dehydration works, after all.

Megamind lets the cube fall to the table instead of catching it. He turns and darts back over to the window, blinking the de-gun in bursts: short-short-short _pause_, long-long-long _pause_, short-short-short. There's a third pause, and then the house across the street lights up and gunfire shatters the silence.

Megamind stands for a few seconds with a goofy grin on his face, enjoying the noise and chaos of yelling downstairs – panic is fun, panic is good, yes, love the panic, love it, _love it_ – before he realizes that he is having _entirely_ too much fun with this and remembers that there is a child still freezing on the floor. He turns and bounds lightly over the card table, then cocks his head at Maxence, who has opened his eyes and is staring up at him.

"I need you to be quiet," Megamind tells him, dropping into a crouch and rolling the boy into a kneeling position and turning him around so that he can reach the tape on his wrists. "The people out there are just a distraction while I get you out of here; the last thing I want is for umpty-squintillion armed bad guys to come charging through that door. Oh, and by the way," he adds, pulling the last of the tape off and helping the shivering boy turn around again before setting to work on his ankles, "I _love_ your costume." He glances up and winks, flashes white teeth in an easy smile that is totally at odds with the speed at which his hands are moving. "Excellent taste, really, and brilliantly done. Nice job on the lightning bolt. Homemade costumes are the best, don't you agree?" He keeps his voice low and his tone bright and cheerful, aware that Maxence is probably traumatized and not in the mood for surprises.

Maxence tears the duct tape off his mouth, spits out a bit of rag. "You're _Megamind_," he blurts, and Megamind claps a gloved hand over the boy's mouth. He turns his head a little, listening for a moment, but he doesn't hear anything from below other than gunfire and shouting – no footsteps on the stairs – so he relaxes and goes back to what he had been doing.

"What did I tell you about being quiet?"

"S-sorry." Maxence's teeth are beginning to chatter, and Megamind frowns and unbuttons his coat and wraps it around the boy's shoulders. He hears a quiet thump behind him and knows that one of the police officers has come through the window.

"Here," he says. "Put this on. How much tape did they _use?_"

"A lot." Maxence almost disappears in the pile of dark wool and curls his hands against his chest, looking curiously at the woman who has just crawled through the window. She looks very different from his mother, who is thin and wispy and downright frail in comparison. This woman has short hair, like a boy's, and a stubborn chin, and Maxence wonders if she wears that frown _all_ the time. He turns his attention back to Megamind as the frowning woman helps an older man with iron-grey hair into the room. "I think th-they were afraid I'd get free too easily."

Megamind hides a grin. "You should make a less realistic costume next time," he murmurs. "They must've thought you were me."

Maxence beams, then plucks at the coat. The sleeves flop over his hands. "Where'd this come from?"

Megamind glances up at him, finally breaking through the last of the tape. "You don't think I go around in just spandex and leather _all_ the time, do you?" he asks, raising his eyebrows and smiling. "I'll let you in on a secret – sometimes I wear normal clothes and use my disguise generator to make me _look_ like I'm in full costume."

Maxence's eyes are wide. "Really?"

"Yes. Haven't you ever gotten out of bed and not wanted to get out of your pajamas?"

Max's eyes go wider still. "You wear _pajamas?_"

"Even supervillains wear pajamas. I brush my teeth, too. With a normal toothbrush. It's red."

"_Wow_."

Jones' voice from behind him makes Megamind turn. "We're going to head down, now. Take out as many as we can without hurting them. You get the kid out of here, get him out of the DZ."

Megamind gets to his feet, unconsciously positioning himself between Max and the door, then holds his de-gun out towards Jones, grip first.

Jones blinks and steps forward, takes it gingerly and looks at it. "What…"

Megamind pulls him closer, reluctant to go any further from Maxence than he already is, and reaches over to show Jones how to use the gun. "Here, see, these are the settings. It's set to de-hydrate, you should leave it there but you can use de-moralize if you need to. Just twist the cylinder to change settings. I'd just leave it where it is, but…if you need information and they don't want to give it to you, squeeze the trigger and hold it for a few seconds."

Jones looks at him in surprise. "You shouldn't – I can't possibly –"

Megamind scowls. He doesn't like letting other people _touch_ the de-gun, let alone use it. But Jones needs it. It's safer than the officers' guns, and quieter. "Just take it, okay? And try not to die. Stick to the plan. Text me if something goes wrong."

Jones stares for a moment longer, then sets his jaw and nods. "Take care."

"Yeah, I don't wanna have to clean that head of yours off the pavement," Mercedes calls over, and Megamind blinks at her. That had sounded almost like a joke.

The doofy-looking, awkward smile blazes out before Megamind realizes what he's doing and gets control of himself, but for a moment Jones is looking at a familiar little blue boy with hopeful eyes, the boy that he had always thought been killed years ago. Then the moment passes and Megamind is back and the smile has turned into his usual mischievous grin, but there's still an uncomfortable stone in the back of Jones' throat.

"I'll do my best!" Megamind announces, then turns on his heels and focuses on Max. He has no idea what to do next or how to wish them luck any more than he already has, and he's relieved to hear them start down the stairs and close the door behind them. He hopes that turning around had been the right thing to do. He's never really gotten the hang of changing subjects or ending conversations without being obvious about it.

He reaches down and pulls Maxence to his feet, but the little boy staggers – his feet are totally numb, and his legs have fallen asleep from being stuck in one position for so long. "Whoops!" says Megamind, and catches him, laughing. "All right, kiddo, let's get you safe so we can try to bring some blood back into your extremities." The only basis of reference he has for talking to children is his memory of how the warden had spoken to him during his own childhood, so he tries for a similar tone. "Have you ever ridden on someone's back, before?"

"Piggy-back?"

"Uh…" Megamind blinks, uncertain. "Is that the one where you hold onto my shoulders and I hold onto your legs?"

Maxence bobs his head.

"That's a silly name," Megamind mutters, but nods anyway. "Then, yes, piggy-back."

"Uh-huh. Lots of times."

_Oh, good_. Megamind never has, but he's seen it done and he's pretty sure that would be the best way to carry a child over rooftops. He looks at Maxence for a moment. The oversized coat could make things difficult, but he's not about to ask Max to take it off; the kid is half-frozen already. The problem is that Megamind is going to need to be able to use his hands and arms for balance while running, and while ordinarily he would just ask Maxence to lock his ankles together around his waist – Megamind is pretty sure he's thin enough that the boy shouldn't have too much trouble with that – Maxence is probably numb. Megamind is aware that kids tend to hold on a lot tighter than adults expect them to, but he doubts that's the case when they're freezing. He probably should have dehydrated Max before giving Jones the de-gun.

"Okay," he says eventually. "I'm going to need to tie you on with something. Where'd the duct tape go?"

"I think it's on the table."

It isn't. After a quick glance around the room, though, Megamind determines that it had only fallen off and then rolled away. He retrieves it, then turns off his disguise generator so that he won't have to worry about the illusion of a cape and spiky collar getting in the way. "Okay," he says again, picking at the end to get the tape started. "You need to…what?"

"Your scarf is ugly," Max tells him frankly.

Megamind resists the urge to scowl as he adjusts the scarf, wrapping it more tightly around his neck. "One of my uncles made it for me when I was just a little older than you are now so that I wouldn't fail a shool assignment. I like it."

"You wore that to school?" Max tilts his head and looks at the pom-pom fringe.

"I didn't have anything else for Halloween," Megamind tells him, trying not to sound defensive. He likes children well enough, but he does find their frankness trying at times, and he doesn't really trust them. He crouches, motions for Max to climb onto his back.

"Not even a costume or something?"

"I grew up in prison," Megamind says shortly. He makes sure to keep the tape on Maxence's clothes as he tapes the boy's feet and hands together in front of him. He had been mistaken about the length of the boy's legs; Max's feet don't quite touch, so Megamind has to wrap a band of tape around each of the boy's ankles a few times and then tie them together in front of him with more tape. "We didn't really do costumes and trick-or-treating in there. Keep away from the back of my head, okay? And my neck. I need to breathe."

"What, _never?_" Max sounds totally baffled. "You never got to go trick-or-treating?"

"Not for candy, anyway." Megamind finishes with Max's wrists and ankles, but the boy still doesn't really seem like he's secure, so he starts wrapping tape around his torso and across the small of Max's back, effectively binding the two of them together. Max stays quiet, thinking, while he does this.

As Megamind reaches back to drop the roll of tape awkwardly into the pocket of his coat, Max gasps and bounces a little on his back. "I know! I know what!"

"What?" Megamind asks. "And keep your head down so you don't brain yourself on the window frame."

Max tucks his head behind the line of Megamind's bony shoulder until they're all the way out on the roof, and then he pops back up again. "You should come trick-or-treating with _me_ next year! That would be _awesome!_"

Megamind chokes and nearly stumbles, trying not to laugh. Maxence is dressed like him, and even went so far as to paint his skin blue, but Megamind had sort of figured that was because he still counted as scary to most children. Given the level of sheer enthusiasm in Max's voice, though, Megamind is starting to wonder if the boy's choice of costumes had been fannish rather than based on 'scare' factor. He isn't really sure how he feels about that.

_Flattered? Is this what 'flattered' feels like?_

"…An' we could make our costumes and trade candy and we should stay away from Mr. Reynold's house 'cause of he's a dentist and only hands out apples, unless you like apples. Then you can have mine, too. And Mom'll make us cider on the stove afterwards and put cloves in and cinnamon and pumpkin spices – and I'll ask her if you can come over to carve pumpkins with us too because I bet you've _never_ done _that_ and it's loads of fun even if they do get smashed all the time…"

Megamind lets him ramble on as he climbs up to the ridgepole, focusing his attention on the matter at hand. He stands for a moment, testing his balance, trying to figure out whether Max is going to throw him off or not. Either way, when he starts running, Megamind will be able to just keep going; he won't have to worry about slowing down and waiting for humans to catch up. It's easiest for him to keep his balance if he's able to keep his momentum.

He launches himself forward, dashing along the peak of the roof with sure steps, hunching forward a little and springing into the air when he reaches the first gap. He twists his hips sideways as he flies forward so that he can land with the arches of his feet on the next ridgepole over, shooting his lead foot out to the side and skidding down the pole as if he were riding an invisible skateboard. Max squeaks and his arms tighten around Megamind's neck.

Easier, nothing. With the extra weight, he _needs_ momentum. He needs all the momentum he can get. Megamind speeds up again, heart pounding, and decides that as soon as he reaches the end of the block, he's going to try to find a way down to the street. Carrying Max over the rooftops like this is just too difficult. Too dangerous. If Megamind fell from this height, he would be sore but probably wouldn't even bruise; if Maxence fell, he'd be killed.

_Or…_

He slides to a stop on the final roof and, with some difficulty, pulls out his phone to summon two brainbots. _The streets should be clear, by now_, he reasons.

After a long moment, Max speaks up from behind him in a tiny voice. "Can we not do that again, please?"

Megamind laughs and glances back at him. "Yes, sorry. I'm done jumping around now. I probably should have warned –"

_BANG_

Megamind turns and slips his feet backwards off the ridgepole, skids down the shingles on his stomach until he's able to hook his fingers over the peaked roof. That shot had been aimed at him, he's sure of it, and he just hopes he picked the right side of the roof to use as cover. Then he twists his head to look over his shoulder and sees the light in the house behind him, and he swears and flips himself around so that Max is pinned between his back and the roof.

"What is it? What's happening? Can I see?"

"Keep your head down," Megamind snaps, and feels Max duck back out of sight. The shot had sounded like it was from a rifle, so whoever had fired is probably reloading. Megamind listens desperately, calculating…_If I jump, I can land on my feet, I'll need to fall forward instead of tumbling because Max is taped to my back, but I can catch myself on my forearms. He weighs fifty-five…call it fifty-six pounds, so twenty-five and a half kilograms so I'll need to absorb 240.1 extra newtons of force_.

_Shouldn't be too much of a problem_.

He lets go of the roof and sits up a little so he won't scrape Max along the rough shingles as they slide towards the edge and the three-story drop that will follow. Max's arms and legs go tight and the boy lets out a high scream as he and Megamind plunge over the side—

And Megamind lands lightly on a pair of _thaum_ing, glowing brainbots; one foot on each. He isn't prepared for that, but he's learned to roll with the punches over the years and he's glad that he won't have to worry about falling three stories and possibly hurting Max. He can't help but laugh delightedly as the machines carry him away into the night.

"Ah ha ha ha! Ha ha ha haaaa…"

This is something he trained the brainbots to do ages ago, after he had decided that Metro Man would be easier to avoid if Megamind could fly, too. He's used the bots for flying a few times since he wrote the flight program, but he doesn't use them often – he knows exactly how top-heavy he is, and it makes him nervous. He's more comfortable with running and jumping, and he's better at activities that keep his feet on the ground anyway.

But he steers the brainbots down the street and away with Max safe on his back, out of range of bullets, dodging down alleys at random until they're on the outskirts of the DZ, where Megamind hears a familiar sound and grins.

_You fantastic fish, you_.

He guides the brainbots down and jumps off onto the sidewalk. "You okay?" he says.

Max nods. "I liked the flying better than the jumping," he replies faintly.

Megamind isn't sure if it's a human thing, specifically, but the vast majority of _Homo sapiens sapiens_ he has observed have preferred to run than fly, and if they had to go airborne they wanted to _stay_ airborne for as long as possible. In Megamind's experience, humans do not enjoy combining the two activities. More than that, the combination _scares_ them. Lancaster and Sundown are the exceptions to that rule; Lancaster because he was trained, and Sundown because…well, because as near as Megamind can work out, Sundown isn't afraid of _anything_.

He walks towards the source of the familiar grumbling noise, and the invisible car flickers into visibility and the driver's door opens.

"Minion!" Megamind exclaims happily, as if he hadn't explicitly told Minion to stay at the Lair. "Hi!"

Minion sighs and shakes his head, but smiles. "Evening, Sir. Nice night for a kidnapping."

"Isn't it, though?"

Minion looks over Megamind's shoulder. "And who is this? Are you Max?"

"Minion, help me get him down," Megamind says. _Roxanne must have told him about Max. What's she doing back at the Lair? Wasn't Bernard at home? Why wasn't he packing?_ "He's freezing, we need to get him warmed up."

Minion takes a pocketknife out of the car and cuts through the duct tape with very little difficulty. Max starts to get down, but as soon as he puts weight on his legs he crumples to the pavement. "Ow," he says, curling up a little, and ducks under the coat.

Megamind stoops to his level, puts out a hesitant hand and rubs where he thinks the boy's shoulder should be. Max has seemed very unperturbed thus far, which is out of the ordinary for a kidnapping victim. "Max? Hey, kiddo. Um…my…little man?" _No_, he decides, _no, that just sounds stupid_. "Hey. You okay?"

Max scrubs a sleeve across his eyes and sniffs, but nods. He doesn't uncurl or look at Megamind, though, and the alien frowns down at him, perplexed. Megamind suspects that, if his guess about Max's costume choice is correct, the boy's apparent lack of trauma had been due to a combination of surprise and delight that Megamind had shown up, but the surprise is wearing off now. And Megamind had given him a bit of a nasty shock with the roof trick.

He looks up at Minion, hoping for help, but the fish shakes his head and mouths, _HUG_, and points at Max. Megamind grimaces and turns back to the boy.

"Really?" He keeps his tone serious, bordering on conspiratorial. "Because you've just had a really scary thing happen. I know I'd be scared if _I_ got kidnapped."

"No you wouldn't." Max's voice is muffled.

Megamind leans closer. "Between you and me? Yeah, actually. I would."

"He would," Minion chimes in, and Max uncurls a little, blinks uncertainly out at Megamind.

"Really?"

"Oh, absolutely," Megamind tells him, and Minion nods.

Max sniffs again, and the next thing Minion knows, the boy has both arms around Megamind's neck and is clinging to him as hard as he can, and Megamind is wearing his shocked _oh-god-what-now_ face. "Sir," Minion mutters, and nudges Megamind with his toe.

Megamind holds Max against him as he gets to his feet, shifting so that Max is resting on his hip instead of dangling from his neck. Max is eight and Megamind isn't a tall man, but he makes it work. "I should…probably go and see how the fight is going," he tells Minion in an undertone.

Minion shakes his head. Right now, Max badly needs an adult to hold him, and he seems to have picked Megamind. Minion still remembers a few times when Megamind had needed similar comfort as a child, and he knows that if Megamind leaves now the emotional trauma from the kidnapping will be worse. "If it's important, we'll go in the car. You know it's action-proof. _Sir_," he adds in a warning tone when Megamind looks like he might argue.

Megamind looks down at the top of Max's head and, to Minion's surprise, caves. "You may be right, Minion. We'll take the car. Um…"

"Sit in the back. Just keep a tight hold on him and he'll be fine," Minion says.

Megamind nods gratefully. "You always know just what to do. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Minion rolls his eyes. "Likewise, Sir."


	6. Chapter 6

For fun, I copy/pasted all of the chapters, snippets, one-shots, and deleted scenes I've written for Megamind since I first watched it in April into a single MS Word document to check the word count. I have written nearly _212,000_ words for this fandom during the past six months. Roughly 450 pages, single-spaced, size 12 times new roman font, 1-inch margins. That's _insane_. I'm not going to use all of the scenes, but they've been _written_, or at least outlined. Some of them are snippets I took out of chapters before posting them. Either way, I am floored by that number. It's enough for two good-sized novels.

And you know what? I'm okay with that. :D

Chapter six! Up ten minutes after Halloween (I wanted to have it _on Halloween_, but that just didn't happen). In Which Roxanne is Smart, Megamind is Surprised, Nibs Lols, Minion is Upset, and Things Generally go Downhill From Here.

I own nobody but Nibs. Also, can I just say that I really, really wish English had an acceptable, widely-used gender-neutral pronoun that isn't "it" and isn't plural? Writing about Nibs is _hard_, I keep sitting here going "I wonder if 'it' is clear enough or I should reword the sentence."

You are all amazing and I love you. I love that you seem to be enjoying this as much as I am. *hugs you*

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

Megamind is exhausted and grinning like a madman when he and Minion finally get back to the Lair later that night. He is tired to his core, but he thinks he might just be glowing.

Who knew that _being_ good would _feel_ good, too? He'd had no idea. He's glad he knows _now_; he may have to try the whole 'good' thing again, sometime. Roxanne keeps claiming that the Metro City rebuild project had been good, but in Megamind's opinion that didn't really count because it had been in payment of a debt. It hadn't been altruistic the way going after Max had been.

There is no feeling, Megamind decides, as can compare to that which you get when a relieved mother comes rushing out to meet you before you're even all the way out of your car. Especially if you've just rescued her son from who knows what. Especially if the boy is clinging to you for comfort, and he's dressed like you because he _admires_ you. _Especially_ then.

The whole encounter had left him feeling all quiet and shy and warm inside. The rescue itself had been harrowing. There had been a lot of things that could have gone wrong, and they hadn't, but they could have, and Megamind had thought of all of them, and it had been frightening. As soon as Megamind had put Max on his back, the weight of responsibility on his shoulders had tripled, and when they had nearly been shot, all he could think had been, _This was a really, really dumb idea_.

But now…now that it's over, Megamind thinks he would do it again, if only so that he could feel like _this_ again afterward.

Cecile had kissed him and hugged him and cried on him and would not hear of him or Minion leaving before they'd had a coffee, and Bradley had swung by the house while Megamind and Minion had still been trying to escape from Cecile to tell him that everyone was fine. The fight had gone entirely according to plan, he had said, and had clapped Megamind on the back and beamed and called him 'Freak' again. And said that any time Megamind wanted to help out with police business, it was okay by him.

Megamind hadn't been able to stop smiling all the way home. He'll have to go down to the police station tomorrow to retrieve his gun, but he doesn't mind. It might even be fun, considering he's also planning ways to acquire information from Max's kidnappers.

The car sits grumbling in the garage for a few seconds before Minion turns it off and glances over at Megamind, who is still staring straight ahead. He looks the happiest Minion has seen him in a while.

"I take it you had fun tonight, Sir?"

Megamind nods mutely, still grinning. Then he blinks a few times and jerks his head from side to side. "I mean, it was…I didn't like _doing_ it, I mean, it was _dangerous_ and there were _way_ too many unknown variables, but…_Minion_," he says, and slowly turns to look back at his friend out of wide, shining eyes, "people_ like_ me!" And he sinks a row of white-white teeth into his lower lip in an attempt to keep his smile from leaping off his face and dancing a polka across the floor of the car.

Minion can't help but smile back. When Megamind had gone to hand Max over to Cecile, Max had turned to wrap his arms around his mother's neck but forgotten to let go of Megamind's waist with his legs. Cecil had just put one arm around Max and the other around Megamind and pulled them _both_ in for a white-knuckled hug. Hugs being what they are, and Minion being who he is, he hadn't been able to resist hugging the little trio of people, and he had felt Megamind purring involuntarily the way he does only when he is both totally relaxed and very, very happy – which is to say very, very rarely.

It had been nice. But there's something else happening in Megamind's head; there's something more to this equation than just satisfaction about a job well done or pleasure at finally getting some appreciation.

"Minion…" Megamind says again, and opens his mouth and pauses. He takes a deep breath, and then in a small voice, he says, "…_I_ like me." Out comes the joyous crescent-moon smile again, but above it, his eyes are very big and confused and almost, _almost_ a little bit fearful. "At least I think I do."

Minion can only gape at him for a moment before he thinks of how to respond, then relaxes into a grin. "Took you long enough, Sir," he says, and Megamind bursts into embarrassed laughter. Minion waves at the door, smiling. "You go ahead inside while I put the car away, Roxanne's working in the main room."

"Oh, she stayed?" Megamind asks, surprised. He had half-expected her to head home after Minion left. What would be the point of staying in the Lair if no one else was around?

Minion nods. "I'll go throw together something to eat, she told me you two hadn't had time for dinner yet."

Ordinarily, Megamind would shout something triumphant and bound out of the car. And he reaches for the door handle, closes his fingers around it – but then he turns back and stares intently at Minion, an odd little half-smile playing around the corners of his mouth.

The silence stretches between them. Minion glances around, unsure of what's going on.

"You," Megamind says after a few moments, and lifts an eyebrow and smiles, "are my very best friend. And…thanks."

Minion blinks.

"Everything's changing. I don't know how we got here, I really don't. But I'm so happy that the circumstances conspired the way they did. I'm happy, Minion. I'm _happy!_"

He never has been, before, and Minion knows it. Rather, he _has_ been happy, just never for very long and rarely about something he thought was really worth it. But this is the first indication Minion has had that Megamind ever realized that, himself. The carefree image he's worked so hard to maintain is not something he used to take off very often, even in front of Minion and even, Minion suspects, in front of himself. But he's doing it more and more frequently these days, and Minion is in total support of that.

Megamind pauses, frowns a little. "…I think something might be wrong with me."

"Sir?"

Megamind shakes his head. "I'm just in a very weird mood tonight."

There's a pause, and then Megamind jumps a little. "Right! Inside, yes. See you in a few minutes, Minion!"

He hops out of the car and skips to the door and into the back of the Lair.

Even from this distance, he can hear the high-pitched whine of machinery, of metal-on-metal, that picks up a few seconds after Megamind steps into the Lair. He waits for the brainbots to take his coat, scarf, and gloves, and then he follows the sound down a hallway and around a corner and into the main room.

It's after eleven o'clock, so Roxanne hasn't turned on any lights; she's moved Megamind's drawing board out of the way because the hanging glow-globe is the only alternative light source and positioned a large, C-shaped table so that the shadows cast by the globe won't interfere with her line of sight. It's the little things like that that make Megamind smile. Roxanne takes shadows into account without even thinking about it.

Roxanne is facing more or less away from him; Megamind can see the curve of her cheek and the goggles she's wearing, but he knows he's in her peripheral vision and she hasn't noticed him yet. Tiny shining bits of metal and various and sundry tools are scattered over the table's surface – sparks are flying from something Megamind can't make out, but he can see the black gloves she's wearing and the spiderweb of silver wires over their surface, the tiny grips at the end of each finger. Whatever Roxanne is working on is delicate business.

The sparks and the noise cut off abruptly, and Roxanne lays a blowtorch and a tiny movable band saw aside. She hunches over her work, flipping something down over one eye. Megamind blinks; he doesn't remember having any goggles with things that flip down. Then he dismisses it and leans against the doorframe, his arms folded over his chest.

He stands for a moment and watches her work, enjoying the sight of Roxanne in protective goggles and precision-gloves. She is always beautiful, as far as Megamind is concerned, but when she's wearing work gear she is just unbelievably sexy. She's part of his world, she _looks_ like she's part of his world, and that is something he would never in a million years have dared to hope for. But here she is, and she is drop-dead _gorgeous_.

He thinks he might be feeling a little bit sappy at the moment, but he also thinks that's maybe not so bad.

Finally, Roxanne sits up and arches her back to crack her spine, unsnaps and pulls off the gloves and pushes the goggles up onto her forehead. She rubs her eyes with the heels of her hands, blinking blearily down at whatever she's been working on.

Megamind saunters into the light and grins. "I thought you'd be in bed by now."

Roxanne shoves her chair out of the way and shoots to her feet, her blue eyes wide. One hand is white-knuckled on the work table, the other is pressed against her chest. For a moment, Megamind wonders if she's having some kind of heart problem. She's pale.

"Roxanne…?"

"You're okay," she says flatly.

He glances to either side and smiles a little, confused. "Well, of course I am."

She shudders a little and sweeps her bangs out of her eyes, forces herself to stand straighter and drop her shoulders. "Of course you are. I – I'm sorry, I just." She laughs. "I'm glad you're home."

Megamind's smile turns hesitant. "Are _you_ okay?" Roxanne looks at him, and Megamind can see her thinking. She doesn't want to say it, whatever it is. He can tell. "Roxanne?" he says again. He walks over to her, his steps short and his heart fluttering nervously. Roxanne is still just _looking_ at him. "What's wrong?" He reaches out, because it's against his better judgment and his better judgment when it comes to relationship nervousness tends to be wrong, and holds her by the upper arms, turns her to face him.

"Minion told me what happened last time you had to use the A-12s," she says, staring at his chest rather than his face. Then she steps forward, into the circle of his arms, pulling the goggles off her head and putting them on the table so that she can push her face into Megamind's shoulder, and whispers, "I've been worried sick."

Well that actually makes him feel a lot better. He probably shouldn't be grinning like an idiot, though, in case she looks at him anytime soon. He concentrates, and forces an appropriately somber expression onto his face. "Roxanne," he says. He says her name a lot, he realizes, and wonders if that's a bad thing or a good thing. "You didn't have to worry. I know what I'm doing."

"I know that, genius." Roxanne's voice is sharper than Megamind had expected, but he doesn't let her go and she doesn't step away. "Of course you knew what you were doing. You _always_ know. You're _you_. But you aren't – you aren't Wayne, you're _not_, you're not invulnerable. I never had to worry about _Wayne_."

"You don't have to worry about me, either," Megamind begins, telling himself that no, Roxanne does not mean that sometimes she wishes he were Wayne, that is just _stupid_, shut up.

"_Yes I do_," she snaps, cutting him off. "I _do_ have to worry about you. Lord knows you won't worry about yourself. What if something happened to you? I don't want to lose you."

"Worrying won't help that," he points out, and wonders, bewildered, if this is going to turn into an argument. He really doesn't want it to turn into an argument. He hates arguing with Roxanne. And he's tired.

"I don't care!" She pushes him away a little, glares at him.

Megamind begins to say something, then stops. It's pointless, really. "I don't know what you want me to say," he admits, looking away. "I'm sorry I made you worry."

Her glare turns into a gape, and her hands drop limply to her sides as the tension bleeds out of her. "I…" She shakes her head. "I just don't want you to get hurt."

_Huh_. Apparently that had been the right thing to say, after all. He wishes he knew whether it was the 'I don't know' that had done it or the 'I'm sorry,' for future reference. "Look, I wasn't even involved in any of the shooting," he tells her. "I went in, got Max, and then got the hell out of Dodge."

Roxanne sighs. "I guess that's something. I shouldn't have snapped at you, I'm sorry, you probably didn't need that."

He half-smiles, shakes his head. "It's fine. Don't worry about it."

She glances away, drums her fingers on the table, purses her lips, and then looks back up at Megamind with a mischievous grin dancing around the corners of her mouth. "Let me make it up to you?"

"I just told you, don't—"

She hooks a finger in his collar and yanks him forward, turning her head so that she can kiss him. Their teeth clack together painfully, and they both yelp and jerk reflexively away. "Ow," Roxanne mumbles, rubbing her lip.

"Sorry," Megamind says, then flinches when she pokes him in the forehead.

"It was my fault, doofus."

Megamind chuckles. "Oh, I'm a doofus, huh?" he begins, raising an eyebrow playfully and rolling his eyes. Then he notices something and stops, frowning. "…I don't think I recognize this table."

Roxanne shrugs, looking suddenly embarrassed. "Yeah, it's…probably not very good, I mean, it's stable and all but I've never made one before and I wish I'd thought to include brakes on the wheels."

Megamind turns and stares at her in total shock, and Roxanne takes in his stunned expression and swallows. She fumbles, stammers, tries to explain. "I, I tried pushing three tables together but it was just too awkward, and I kept losing things in the cracks and having to go after them and it just wasn't working…"

"You _made_ a work table?" he asks, his voice high with surprise. The odd shape means she had to have cut it out of scrap metal before assembling the parts. He puts his hands flat on the table on either side of him, pushes down a few times, testing its stability. It rolls a little, but doesn't rock or bump.

"The brainbots helped –"

"And these?" Megamind interrupts. He picks up the goggles. They're standard work goggles, he has several pairs, but the right-hand side bears two small metal arms inexpertly welded to the side of the frame. Each arm is attached to a wire-rimmed lens. The whole set looks like a really bizarre, heavy-duty pair of jeweler's eyeglasses.

Roxanne stammers some more. "Well, I…my eyes aren't like yours, I'm no good with tiny details even with my contacts in, but I couldn't wear reading glasses over those things, so I…I modified them."

Megamind is aware that his mouth is hanging open. "Modified. You built – you _built things?_" he says, totally dumbfounded as it finally sinks in. "You built things in _my Lair?_"

It's a compliment – the very highest Roxanne could possibly have given him, and Megamind is so surprised and pleased and tickled that he's having a hard time expressing himself. Roxanne has…she's built things using his equipment, his parts, without help from him or Minion. She is comfortable enough with him to impose on him for things, and comfortable enough with his Lair to use what's in it on her own.

He knows that the grin he feels rising is going to be completely stupid, and he has to turn around so that Roxanne won't see his face.

She's not just hanging around at the Lair because that's where _he_ usually is – Roxanne could easily have gone home tonight; Megamind wouldn't have been offended at all. But she came back to the Lair instead, and stayed there even after Minion had gone. She had stayed at the Lair because she had _wanted_ to stay there.

Roxanne is still talking. "I'm…I'm sorry, you weren't around and I guess I just didn't think…I didn't think you'd mind, and I…"

"Shut up," he says.

"Wh-what?"

He looks around at her, eyes shining. "Shut _up_," he says again, and lets out a few breaths of wheezy laughter just before he leaps into the air and spins. Roxanne jumps back. "Look at this _look_ at this!" Megamind cries, running his hands over the table. "This is _insane!_ It's brilliant! Everything's right within reach and _is this surface concave?_"

He grabs a roll of wire, pulls a piece straight, and lays it across the side of the table nearest him. There's a very small downward curve, only about a millimeter deep in the middle, but still, he wouldn't have thought of doing that. "Oh my god _it is_. Nothing's going to roll off! Oh and _look look look_ you only used three main legs and a bunch of supports so it's gonna be stable on any surface. I mean, yeah, there's no way to lock the wheels yet but we can _easily_ fix that. Roxanne, you are a _genius!_"

She's staring at him, starting to smile. "So you're not…upset?"

"Upset?" He shakes his head wildly, beaming at her. "Why would I be – no, darling – no, no, I am not _upset_. And the _goggles!_" He seizes them, holds them in front of his eyes so he doesn't have to readjust the band, then ducks around Roxanne so that he can peer at the switchboard of the brainbot she had been working on. "I can see _everything!_ I can see all the – wait, what did – how did you –" His ecstatic tone drops to one of astonished confusion. "This is _Nibs_, how the _hey_ did you do this?"

Holding the goggles in place with one hand, he takes a tiny screwdriver and nudges a few wires to the side, inspecting the connections. The workmanship is close to perfect, and his eyes go wide as he realizes what Roxanne is trying to do to the elderly brainbot.

He puts the goggles down on the table and straightens. "You've. You've given Nibs decision-making capabilities." _And extended its capacity for cognitive reasoning _way_ beyond any of the others'._ The brainbots all have three switchboards stacked one above the other under the floors of their domes – Roxanne has added a fourth level.

"I've been working on this for almost a month," Roxanne admits. "I just finished, all I need to do now is get Minion to look at it and make sure it's okay, then reassemble him and see if it works. It took me a while to grasp the fundamentals of how the brainbots' hardware mirrors their software, but Minion's been explaining things and double-checking my work. I wanted to surprise you."

Megamind turns to face her. His green eyes are shining, but his voice is serious. "Roxanne, I don't think you understand exactly how complex this is. You're not only _increasing_ Nibs' capacity for artificial intelligence, you're expanding it as well. You were probably going off of one of the newer brainbots' switchboards as a base, yes?"

"Wren's, yes."

"But this isn't Wren's – this is totally in keeping with _Nibs'_ directives," Megamind says slowly.

"Of course," Roxanne says. She smiles. "Wren is a security brainbot. You built Nibs to be one of your helpers. Of course the two wouldn't have the same design."

Megamind doesn't bother explaining further. He doesn't tell her that after this, Nibs' upgrades will have to apply to Nibs alone. The way Roxanne has rewired the brainbot's circuitry and added a fourth switchboard is not the way Megamind normally does hardware upgrades – this is all Roxanne. And it'll work. And all Megamind can do is stare at the woman in front of him and think of how smart she is and how badly he wants her.

"I'm not sure I can re-program him, though," Roxanne says, but Megamind holds up a hand.

"You won't have to. What you've done here is extended its original hardware, looped a few paths, and switched one or two of the blocks. After it comes back online, Nibs is going to upgrade itself."

"Is that a good thing?"

"It's incredible," Megamind tells her. He steps forward and puts a hand behind her head, pulls her in, kisses her helplessly. She tastes like fire and smoke. "You are just," kiss, "the most incredible," kiss, "thing that's ever happened to me," kiss. He buries his nose in her hair. "I can't believe you actually did all this," he murmurs. "You're _brilliant_."

Roxanne, for her part, is still very confused. Megamind hardly ever initiates physical relations between the two of them, although he's getting better about it. And she had been worried for a while that he was mad at her for using his tools without asking, but then he'd exploded into one of his enthusiastic micro-rants, and he'd been looking at her like she was something truly amazing instead of just some human woman who happens to be good with little things.

Roxanne might not be able to read people the way Megamind can, but she can tell that he is genuinely and completely happy about what she's done. She isn't sure why he's so pleased, but she figures it doesn't matter too much.

It's the way he touches her, the careless placement of one hand on her hip and the other on her shoulder with one thumb resting against the base of her throat, that make her glow a tiny bit inside. Initially, every move Megamind made had been calculated, tentative, hesitant. That was how Roxanne had known just how much she meant to him, because he had been so shy about touching her at all in the beginning.

Given his background, Roxanne couldn't really blame him.

Now, it's different. Now, when they're together, Megamind is almost always touching her in some way or other – holding her hand or her arm, curling beside her on the sofa or in bed, trailing a hand across her shoulders as he passes by. Roxanne rarely reciprocates – it's not in her nature to be touchy-feely, and before she got into this Thing with Megamind, physical displays of affection had actually made her sort of uncomfortable – but she's starting to do it more often. Every time she leans over Megamind's shoulder to see what he's working on and rests a hand on his back he gets this adorable little grin that won't go away, and she likes making him look like that.

She puts her hands on his narrow waist and smiles. "You're pretty incredible too, you know."

"Well, I know that, but _you_, you just…" He shakes his head.

"Food, you two!" Minion sounds like he's calling from halfway down the hall, and Roxanne snorts. Minion has recently started announcing his presence before entering rooms.

Roxanne raises her eyebrows. "Food?" she asks Megamind.

"Food," he agrees. "I am _starving_."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

'Food' is leftover cold chicken from the refrigerator, cheese, crackers, and bread. There's balsamic vinegar and olive oil with the bread, which Roxanne and Minion are both fond of but Megamind detests.

"It's _greasy_," he complains when Roxanne offers to share.

"Oily, sir," Minion corrects him.

"It's gross," Megamind says flatly. "And you're a _fish_. Bread I can understand, but..._why_ do you like it with _oil?_"

It does seem more trouble than it's worth; Minion has to swim to the top of his bowl and drop the bread into his mouth so that it doesn't get wet. "It tastes good," he insists, wiping his metal fingers on a napkin. "And the texture is different. Plain dry bread feels weird. It needs something to dampen it a little."

Megamind scoffs and returns to his chicken.

"So, I'm confused," Roxanne says after a pause. "Why didn't you get involved in any of the shooting?"

"My job was to go in, retrieve Max, and get him home safely," Megamind tells her. "The police officers with me came in after me and took the 'nappers by surprise while Lancaster and his boys distracted them with a frontal assault."

Roxanne blinks. He had mentioned Lancaster earlier, when he had been talking to Minion, but she hadn't been sure if… "That wouldn't be the Duke of Lancaster, would it?"

"That's the one. May I have the cheese, please? Thanks."

"You're friends with _the Duke of Lancaster_." Roxanne stares at the man across from her, floored for the second time that day. First shipwrecked treasure and Enron, and now Megamind has _mob connections?_ Mob connections that are apparently so strong that he can phone a friend and get the boss of one of Metro City's major crime syndicates to personally come down and provide backup in a random rescue attempt?

"Well, I wouldn't call him a _friend_. But I've known him for years, and I do trust him, to an extent." Megamind glances up, blinks at her stunned expression, then laughs. "Oh, no, I get it. No, it's not like that – the guys who kidnapped Max also shot one of Lancaster's men earlier tonight."

Roxanne forces herself to just nod and go along with it, because she really shouldn't be surprised. "Okay," she says slowly, "so why didn't you go back and help after you made sure Max was safe?"

Megamind's expression sours. "He brought Sundown with him."

Minion chokes. "Sir!"

Megamind shakes his head. "I know. That's why I didn't put up much resistance when you said we should leave. The last thing I want is Sundown knowing exactly where to find someone."

Roxanne frowns. "Wait, who's Sundown?"

"The closest thing to a vigilante you're likely to ever actually meet," Megamind replies. "Trouble is he's also a psychopath."

Roxanne makes a dubious face.

"No, _seriously_," Megamind says, interpreting Roxanne's doubtful expression correctly. "The man is a psychopath. Luckily, he tends not to bother with little things like this, but…" He shakes his head again and sighs. "He's a good man to have on your side in a fight. But he's just plain dangerous. Honestly, I don't know what Lancaster sees in him."

"So he works with Lancaster?"

"He's the Duke's right-hand man," Minion tells her. "He has been for years. We thought he was killed a couple years ago, but I guess he's just been hiding." He frowns as he looks at Megamind. "From now on, I'm not going to believe anyone is dead until I see a body."

Megamind half-smiles. "That would seem safest. Anyway, I'll just swing by the police station tomorrow. I lent Jones my gun."

"Did you find out what they wanted with Max?"

Megamind shakes his head. "No, I didn't. Which is another reason why I want to go see the kidnappers. Vee haf vays of making them talk." He frowns down at his plate. "All right, so, tomorrow. Plan. Sleep now, wake up, watch you put Nibs back together," he says to Roxanne, "then go pay some criminals a visit. Should be fun."

Minion blinks at him. "You're actually going to sleep, Sir?"

Megamind rolls his eyes. "Minion, after the day I've had, I'm going to sleep like a _rock_."

Roxanne laughs, but later, when they're alone, Megamind makes it very clear that she is going to sleep deeply as well.

Both she and Megamind remain oblivious to the sirens wailing across town in the dead of night.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

They rise early the next morning and go straight to work – Roxanne is excited to see if her upgrades work the way she wants them to, and Megamind is just excited in general. He usually is.

Putting Nibs back together takes nearly two hours. They have to make sure the switchboards and wiring are clean, then assemble those in line with the brainbot's power cell. Roxanne, it turns out, had made a complete upgrade with help from Minion, even going so far as to find a clear dome for the bot to replace its old opaque one, and that has to be hermetically sealed into place with the help of a machine that Megamind has affectionately named 'Hoover.'

It's seven o'clock when Nibs' eyestalk finally flickers to life, and eight o'clock by the time its consciousness is fully uploaded into the new chassis. It blinks a few times and hums. Roxanne puts down her book.

"Megamind!" Roxanne calls over her shoulder. "Megamind, he's back up!" She turns excitedly back to Nibs. "Nibs? Hey, little guy, you still with me?"

_Thaum_, says Nibs, lifting off the table and hovering. It blinks again. Blinking is new.

"I made you some new hardware," Roxanne tells it. She feels almost nervous, although she supposes that's sort of ridiculous. "I, um. I hope you don't mind. Do you feel all right?"

Nibs looks at her. She smiles hopefully. Nibs wishes it could smile back.

Something feels different. It curves its eyestalk down – that's new, too, it hadn't been able to do that before – and sees a pair of five-clawed arms. Slowly, it flexes its new hands, marking which movements control which fingers. Still more slowly, it lifts one hand and splays its fingers, dipping the middle one towards itself before flicking its wrist away. Then it turns its other hand up, touches the front of its dome with the first hand before bringing the back of that hand down into the palm of the upturned one. _Thaum_.

Roxanne blinks. "Um…"

Megamind walks into the room with a plate of doughnuts just in time to see Nibs do it again. "Holy _moly_," he says, stopping dead in his tracks and staring. "What is _with_ people and signing these days? Sorry, Nibs, I'm a little rusty. What was that, again?"

Nibs looks at him. FEEL GOOD, it blinks, and Megamind nearly drops his plate of doughnuts. DIFFERENT. GOOD. THINK IS GOOD. THINK CAN FEEL IS WEIRD AND GOOD. I HAVE OPINIONS!

Megamind stares harder. It's a wonder his eyes don't fall out of his head. "When did you learn Morse code?"

COULDN'T BLINK BEFORE. WAS ANNOYING AS HELL YOU KNOW.

Megamind fumbles for his chair, never taking his eyes off the floating brainbot. "It's talking. And it's using intensifiers."

YES THAT IS WEIRD TOO. IS THIS THE INTERNET? HELLO, INTERNET! _Thauuuuuummmm_.

Megamind sits for a minute with his hand over his mouth and his eyes wide.

"What's he saying?" Roxanne asks eventually, and Megamind jumps.

"Oh, it…it says it feels good. Different, but good. And that the ability to think is weird. And it apparently has opinions, and it likes having the ability to blink. It also just said hello to the internet."

"Oh," Roxanne says, a trifle uncertainly. "Do you think adding the wireless card was a bad idea, then?"

Megamind shakes his head just as Nibs starts blinking again, just two letters over and over.

"What's it saying now?"

"Um," says Megamind, starting to smile. "'Lol.' A lot."

LOLOLOLOLOLOL _thauuuum_.

"I think it likes the wireless card," Roxanne murmurs.

I LOVE THE WIRELESS CARD. THANK YOU FOR THE WIRELESS CARD.

Megamind grins. "I think so too. It –"

He cuts off abruptly as Minion appears in the doorway, the newspaper clutched in both hands as if he's forgotten he's holding it. "Has either of you seen today's front page?" His voice is low and tight, and he isn't smiling. He almost looks _pale_, if a fish can be pale. Roxanne, who had been laughing, doesn't hear Minion at first.

Megamind does, though, and at the look on Minion's face he tears the newspaper out of Minion's hands, rips it almost in half. He takes one look and then goes white. Nibs swoops over to float behind Megamind, blinking curiously at the newspaper.

Megamind is pretty sure that he's never had a good mood crash and burn so spectacularly before, ever.

Minion swallows. "You need to go see Wayne."

And that's when Roxanne goes to full alert, because Minion has just called Metro Man by his given name, and Minion _never_ does that. As far as Minion is concerned, Wayne is merely "the superhero," "Metro Man," or, sometimes, when he's in a very good mood, "Scott." And Megamind is nodding, pale-faced and shaky.

Minion's gold gaze flicks briefly to Roxanne. "_Both_ of you," he stresses. "Both of you need to go see Wayne. Right now. Go."

Roxanne gently extricates the newspaper from Megamind's numb fingers. Halfway down the page is a small headline about a bomb scare in North Korea, but the block letters at the top of the page read: _Fire rages out of control at Scott mansion: Lady Scott in critical condition_. "Oh," she breathes. "Oh, god, no." Then, "What about you? Aren't you coming?"

Minion only presses his lips together and shakes his head.

"Lord Scott is dead," Megamind says tonelessly, and Roxanne stares at him.

"What?"

_Thaaaaaaum?_

"Third line."

Roxanne scans the article frantically. "Oh god," she says again. It's all she can think of to say.

Megamind's brain is slowly beginning to turn again, and he looks up at Minion. "Would he even want us to come?" he asks, as if he's afraid to hear the answer. Minion looks at him as if he's sprouted a second head.

"Sir, try to imagine for a moment, and if you can't do that, try to _remember_." Minion's voice is unexpectedly terse, and his arms are folded across his chest. It's a defensive stance, scornful almost, and Roxanne says nothing, barely moves, barely breathes. This is a side of Minion she has never seen, had not even guessed existed – it is sharp, and wound tight as the strings of a violin. Tighter. "If you had just lost your parents, would _you_ want to see anyone?"

"I would want to be as close to you as possible," Megamind says softly, and Minion nods, his expression ruthless. Nibs puts a claw on Megamind's shoulder.

"I know. I remember. You had me, Sir, and I had you. And we didn't want anybody else." Megamind nods. Minion does not like what he's about to say next. "But _he_ doesn't have that." He swallows again, struggles for a minute, and Roxanne can see the exact instant that the violin strings snap with a _twang_. "His father is dead, his mother may be dying. You are _all he has_. _Go. Now_." And then his face sort of crumples and he turns it quickly away. Nibs floats up to him and pats Minion's dome a few times, its metal hand clinking sharply against the glass before it turns and flies quickly away.

Roxanne is deeply, deeply confused – Wayne's pain should not be affecting Minion, of all people, at least not like this – but she isn't about to say anything. She can ask questions later.

Megamind nods woodenly and turns towards the garage where the invisible car is kept. But then he pauses, and turns back around, and does something that Roxanne had not expected and has never seen before: he steps towards Minion and stretches both arms out and up, straining towards the dome, looking very much like a child asking to be held. And Minion complies, picking his master up as if he weighs nothing at all, and Megamind wraps his arms around the dome and pushes his forehead against it. Whatever bond exists between them has never been clearer, and for a moment, Roxanne is on the outside looking in on something very private and painful, something she does not understand and cannot hope to.

Then Minion stretches a hand towards her, and Megamind does the same, and she steps forward and is pulled into the tightest hug she's ever been part of, one arm wrapped around Megamind and the other around Minion's dome, with one each of their arms likewise around her. Roxanne's mind is spinning. _What is going on?_

Then Minion sets them gently back down on the ground. "We'll be back soon," Megamind says firmly.

Minion nods. "I'll be in the pool when you get back."

Megamind pauses. "…All our tanks are at 3000 PSI?" he asks, and Minion smiles a little.

"Of course, Sir. Always."

Megamind half-smiles. "You're the best." He glances at Roxanne. "Have you ever used a respirator?"

Taken aback, for a moment she can only gape at him. "You mean, like with scuba?" She shakes her head. "No, I haven't. Why…?"

He nods once, decisive. "It isn't hard. We'll teach you."

"Sir," Minion says, and Megamind jumps.

"Right, yes, going now. You'll be all right?"

"I'll be fine, Sir."

Megamind blinks, nods again, then wheels around and heads for the garage at a dead run. Roxanne turns to run after him, but Minion's hand on her shoulder stops her. "He's bringing the car around," the fish tells her, and she doesn't ask how he knows.

"I should…I should go outside and wait for him," Roxanne says numbly.

_Thau-aum_, says Nibs as it reappears, and Roxanne jumps. The brainbot is holding her coat out for her, ready to help her on with it. Megamind's jacket and pumpkin scarf are tossed over Nibs' dome.

Roxanne shrugs into the coat, and Nibs settles it on her shoulders and puts a grey silk scarf she hasn't seen before over her head, tying it deftly under her chin and then buttoning her coat up over the ends faster than blinking. The advantage to having a brainbot do these things for her is that she can walk quickly towards the entrance to the Lair as Nibs is working.

When Roxanne opens the door and doesn't see the car, she turns towards Minion with a question in her eyes. He sighs.

"We don't…I don't like Metro Man and I never have, but he's like us. We share a birthday. We share a star system. His life has been tangled up with ours from day eight." He hesitates, swallows. Roxanne hears the car starting, the rumble of a garage door rising. "We've all lost our parents, and that's still… painful, sometimes, for Sir and me, because we remember. And we – Sir, especially – wouldn't wish it on anyone else."

There's more, Roxanne knows, but that's when the invisible car screeches to a halt beside them and Megamind leans across the front seat, throws the passenger door open. Roxanne looks up at Minion as Nibs hands her Megamind's coat and scarf.

"Go," Minion says again, and Roxanne goes.


	7. Chapter 7

This one is up sooner than most of the others were because a lot of it was already written. This was one of the scenes I wrote ages ago, one of those plot bunnies that wouldn't leave me alone. I have a _lot_ of those. Almost all of them will be showing up at some point or other in the series. I am so excited for when that happens.

This is the chapter in which the angst factor skyrockets, and everybody freaks out a little, so I hope the emotions came through all right! And, as always, thank you all so much for reading. I can honestly say that none of this would be happening without your input and concrit and encouragement. Even if you don't review! There's a little stats thing here that says, 'this many people saw your fic!' And it's just a number, no names or anything so if you're paranoid (like me!) don't worry, I'm not going to find out who you are. But the number seems to be increasing, so thank you, too. Big hug.

I still own nothing. Everybody except the cops (c) to DreamWorks.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

The ride out of town is quiet. It's still early on Sunday morning, so there are comparatively few vehicles on the road, and neither Megamind nor Roxanne is in the mood for music.

When Megamind skips the exit for the bay bridge, Roxanne blinks over at him.

"I have to see," is all Megamind says.

The sky that morning is grey, but it's far from dark out. The snow probably started falling late last night – it's deep enough to cover the grass, deep enough for a good amount of brown-grey slush in the road – and shows no signs of stopping. It's a little early in the season for such weather, but this is Michigan and snow in November is not unusual. The roads are clear.

When they reach the entrance to the long driveway up to Scott Mansion, it's crowded with police cars and serious-looking black vehicles with tinted windows. Megamind pulls the invisible car up onto the curb across the street and gets out. Roxanne, feeling numb and sick, follows.

They stare up at the ruin on the hilltop. There's nothing salvageable; the once-proud manor home is now little more than a tangle of charred and blackened sticks. Half of the south wall is standing, but barely. Megamind tries to imagine being in the kind of fire that could turn a mansion into so much charcoal, then tries very hard not to.

He's saved by a familiar voice calling over to him. "Hey, stranger."

Megamind starts and looks around, sees a dark-haired policeman trudging slowly over. "Jones?" There are deep shadows under Jones' eyes, and his uniform is rumpled, and Megamind seriously doubts if the older man made it home last night. Megamind raises an eyebrow. "You need to get some sleep."

Jones snorts and shakes his head. "No rest for the wicked, you know that."

Megamind looks up at the house. "Do they know if it's arson?"

"They're still doing the sweep," Jones replies quietly. "Gut feeling says no, but I've been wrong before."

"Not often."

Jones shrugs a grudging agreement. "It happens, though. Right now we're just questioning anyone who might've been in the area. I heard the attendant at the Sunoco on seventy-third had a guy come in and get some gasoline, some matches and a pack of Camels."

"Could have just had a craving," Megamind murmurs. "She remember what he looked like?"

Jones sighs. "He had a lot of crazy hair and she thought maybe he wore glasses. He was wearing some kind of cologne, cloves or something, I dunno. Mace did the questioning; she said the girl wasn't sure."

_Bernard_, Megamind thinks, but he knows that's not fair. There are tons of men in the city with funny hair and glasses, and he's sure that the stuffy museum curator has never worn cologne a day in his life.

Jones looks at Megamind, then glances at the reporter leaning on the lack of a car and staring up at the ruined mansion. He blinks once, then frowns. "Hey," he says quietly. "You sure you two want to be out here?"

Megamind glances back at Roxanne. The lie comes easily; he knows the news vans usually aren't winter-proofed until early November. "The vans didn't have their snow chains on yet. I offered to give her a lift."

Jones looks at him for a moment, guarded and tired, then hands him the de-gun. He looks like he's aged five years over the past few hours. "I'll mention that if anyone says something. But you should go."

Megamind nods and opens the door of the car. "I'll try to come by the station later today and talk to the guys you picked up last night. Maybe the kidnapping and the fire were related."

"You'd have more luck at the hospital." The old policeman's face goes dark. "All but two of the kidnappers died last night in their cells." Megamind's head snaps up. "Initial inspection says suicide, but we'll know more when the autopsy comes in."

"_What?_" Megamind gasps, but the beat expression on Jones' face tells him the cop isn't joking. Of all the things that Megamind might have expected, suicide had been the last thing – no, suicide hadn't even been _on_ the list. Confused thoughts tumble through his mind. "Why – _how?_"

"We aren't sure. We made the arrests, brought them into custody. In the morning they were dead. And the two that didn't – well, Mace got one through the lung last night, he's in the ICU now."

Megamind's eyes narrow. "And the other one?"

Jones hesitates. "Sundown got to him before we did."

"What about the one I dehydrated?" Megamind wants to know. "The one who was guarding Maxence."

Jones blinks, and a flicker of surprise creeps onto his exhausted features. "You dehydrated one of them?"

Megamind blinks back, then closes the car door and gives Jones a hard stare. "When I went in ahead of you guys, yes," he says slowly. "You should have found a blue cube on the floor. Did you check the attic afterwards?"

Jones nods, frowning. "The forensics team went over the whole building with a fine-toothed comb. They didn't find any of your cubes."

Megamind is silent for a few seconds. Then he says, "So that's nineteen dead, one wounded, and one missing. Jones, I don't like this. I don't like this at all."

The old officer nods heavily. "Neither do I. I'll keep you posted if we learn anything from the guy in the hospital."

_Translation: this isn't your show, Megamind. Stay out_. And as much as Megamind hates to admit it, Jones is right. Scowling bleakly, Megamind wrenches the car door open. "You better move quickly. Talk to him before whoever killed the rest of them comes looking for him, too."

Jones watches him. All Jones ever does is watch, showing none of what he's thinking on his face. "You think it was murder?"

"No, I think nineteen guys committed suicide because of a failed kidnapping," Megamind snaps as Roxanne slides silently into the car beside him. "Either way, are you willing to chance it?"

Jones nods once in silent acknowledgement, then turns and heads back to re-join the group slowly massing at the end of the driveway without another word.

"Didn't think so," Megamind mutters, and slams the door. He stares out the windshield for a few seconds, then drops his head against the steering wheel. "I don't believe this."

"You could help with the investigation," Roxanne says quietly, but Megamind shakes his head.

"No," he says firmly. "It's not my business anymore. This is police business. I'm done here."

Roxanne looks at him, then down at her hands. "That doesn't bother you?"

"Of course it bothers me," Megamind sighs, putting the car in gear and pulling away, "but facts are facts. What can I do?"

Roxanne frowns. "Good question. What _can_ you do?"

Megamind's answering grin is not friendly. "That," he says, "is the _real_ question. I'll let you know when I come up with a satisfactory answer. But I've got a lot on my plate for the next few months, so this is going to have to go to the back burner for now."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Roxanne pauses. She doesn't really know all of what's been going on, but… "From what I've heard, you'd be able to get faster results."

Megamind shrugs and swings onto the exit ramp. "If they've got Jones and Velasquez on the case, it'll move quickly enough without my help. They're a competent team."

_They're a competent team_. That's a sign of deep respect, and Roxanne knows it – Megamind regards very few people as truly competent. It's why she had let him into her apartment when he had said she was the smartest person he knew.

"Wait, what are you doing for the next few months?"

"Bernard's mafia girlfriend," Megamind replies. "I've been thinking about how to get her here without raising any red flags. I've got a few ideas."

There's a brief pause.

"Can we please just go see Wayne now?" Roxanne asks, resting her head against the cold glass of the window and shutting her eyes. "There's too much going on for me to think about."

Megamind sighs, and his shoulders drop a little. "Yes, agreed," he murmurs. "This is…this is too much, you're right, I'm not getting involved in this. Roxanne, remind me not to get involved in this."

"If you get involved with this," Roxanne says dully, without opening her eyes, "you'll end up turning into a hero. And you don't want that."

Megamind shudders. "No. No I don't. Thank you."

Roxanne swallows. "So, Drew and I have this running gag," she says, in a totally blatant attempt to change the subject, "that I have a secret lady-boner for a certain blue alien. Your thoughts?"

Megamind chokes. "Secret _what?_"

"His words, not mine."

Megamind's lips twitch. "How long has this joke been going on?"

"About four years."

He turns and stares at her as best he can without going off the road. "Why are you telling me this _now?_"

Roxanne sniffs and shifts a little in her seat. "Well, two reasons. One, because you sounded like you badly needed a distraction, and two, because I'm really not looking forward to telling Drew he's been right all these years." She frowns and rubs her nose. "Clearly, the thing to do is break up with you so that I don't have to admit I was wrong."

Megamind laughs. "Yes," he says, "clearly that is the thing to do."

"Oh good, you agree."

There's another pause, a longer one this time.

Finally Megamind breaks it. "You are joking, though, right?" Roxanne sticks out her tongue and swats at him, and he laughs a little. "Okay, okay! I was just making sure, jeez."

Roxanne looks out at the snowy banks of the bay. They're on the bridge, now, and the grey waves are bright even through the snow. But she doesn't close her eyes. The whole scene feels surreal, somehow, as if she needs to keep looking at it to make sure it exists. To make sure _she_ exists.

She remembers a man with neat brown hair and a neat beard and expensive clothes that were always perfectly pressed. Never a hair or a stitch out of place. She remembers Christmas dinners for nearly six years running and a white smile that was totally at odds with the hard tone he used when on the phone with people from the office.

"Jeez," she echoes softly.

"…Yeah."

"I can't believe this is happening."

Megamind presses his lips together and shakes his head.

"I _knew_ him," Roxanne hears herself saying. The light on the water is suddenly blinding and she has to close her eyes against sudden tears. "He was…he was nice. I liked him. He was sort of distant, but he told a lot of jokes. He had a nice laugh. He laughed a lot. You know how he used to play catch with his son? Jai alai. 'Because baseball just doesn't cut it when your kid has super-speed and can fly,' he used to say."

"Sounds like some kind of advertisement for the sport," Megamind replies, but his voice is strained.

"Wayne hates boomerangs because they'd always come around and hit him in the back of the head," Roxanne continues in the same monotone voice. "Lord Scott went to Australia a lot on business. He wasn't around much when Wayne was growing up, and he always pushed Wayne really hard to succeed when he was home. But he was nice. There was this ridiculous apron he'd wear when he was helping Lady Scott in the kitchen at Thanksgiving…

"Thanksgiving," she says again, rubbing her eyes on the back of her hand. "What are we going to do for Thanksgiving? It's only a few weeks away, I don't think Lady will be up for anything by then."

"If not, then we'll have Wayne over to the Lair," Megamind says flatly. "But aren't you going to go visit your mom?"

Roxanne doesn't answer.

"Go visit your mother," Megamind tells her. "She's your _family_. And I know Drew misses you like crazy. You should go."

Roxanne turns her head and looks over at him, trails the tips of her fingers lightly down his arm. "Yeah," she finally whispers. "But I don't want to leave you alone on _Thanksgiving_. And will Minion be okay with…with Wayne?"

Megamind smiles. "I bet Minion will suggest it all by himself. Do you know if Wayne told his parents he was still alive?"

Roxanne frowns. "I don't know. It would have had to have been after the memorial service, if he did." She remembers Lord Scott's arm around his wife, his knuckles white on her shoulder, his brown eyes wide and dry and his smooth face suddenly lined with grief and age. Lady Scott sobbing into a handkerchief that had looked like it had cost triple digits, somehow managing not to make any noise as she cries.

And then she thinks of another couple standing together, looking up at a bright blue dot as it grows smaller and smaller in the distant sky. She looks over at Megamind, looks at how still he's sitting and how drawn his face is, and has to squeeze her eyes closed again.

She might not have much contact with her own father, but at least he's still _alive_.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Wayne is sitting in the middle of his couch with his head in his hands when Roxanne bursts through the steel door without knocking. He nearly jumps out of his skin, and then he sees who it is and he says, hoarsely, "Roxanne. Hey."

He sits back a little and moves his hands to his knees, and Roxanne flings herself into his chest without stopping to think, just bulls right into him and pulls herself fiercely against him, clinging tight. After a moment, Wayne wraps one arm carefully around her. Then he gives a shuddering sort of sigh and puts his other arm around her, just gives up and hugs her as tightly as he dares but not half as tightly as he wants. He isn't allowed to cling. He would crush her. The only thing on Earth he can't crush is the pod he arrived in, and that's sitting out on the coffee table because screw being an adult and an ex-superhero, he needed to cling to _something_.

Megamind isn't really surprised to see it.

He _is_ surprised to realize that he is not at all worried about Wayne losing control and squeezing Roxanne to death; he's just slightly discomfited by the sight of the invulnerable Metro Man crying silently into Roxanne's hair. Unsure of what else to do, he claims the chair across from the sofa, puts his feet up on the low table next to the spacepod, and waits to be noticed.

It's obvious from the un-self-conscious way Wayne and Roxanne are holding each other just how long they've been friends and how close they used to be, and Megamind is loath to intrude. He doesn't _mind_, really – it's just odd and slightly uncomfortable to look at. This is the first time he has seen Roxanne do anything physically open without appearing to think about it first. She had just bolted inside and gone straight to Wayne and folded him into a hug without waiting for him to speak, without greeting him, without even closing the door behind her. Caught in the circle of his huge arms, she looks almost ridiculously tiny.

"Father's dead," Wayne says after a few long minutes tick by, his voice muffled by Roxanne's wool coat.

"I know," she replies, and holds him tighter. "I'm so sorry."

"They don't know if Mom's gonna make it. She was pretty badly burned."

"I know," Roxanne says again.

Wayne twists his hands in the back of her coat. Seams burst. Threads unravel. He doesn't notice, and she doesn't care. "I," he says hoarsely, and gulps, "I didn't save them. I didn't even _know_."

That's the one Roxanne has been waiting for; Megamind can tell from the way she shifts and resettles herself, turning her hips sideways and kicking her boots off in a flurry of movement so that she doesn't have to kneel awkwardly on the edge of the sofa. "Oh Wayne, it's not your fault you weren't watching the news. It was like two in the morning. You were probably asleep."

Wayne's shoulders hitch once. Twice. His voice, when he speaks, is uneven. "My fault this place is soundproofed. My fault I didn't install radio from the house to this place in case of emergency."

Megamind speaks for the first time. "Well, if _that's_ your rationale, it's my fault, too." Wayne's head shoots up, and Roxanne's ribs creak a little. "I'm the one who's supposed to be prepared for every eventuality, remember?"

"_You're_ here?" Wayne doesn't sound displeased – just shocked to find his blue nemesis lounging in a chair with his booted heels melting snow onto the polished surface of the coffee table.

"Of course I'm here, where else would I be?" Megamind searches desperately for something to lighten the mood, some remark he can make that will somehow make everything easier, if only for a few minutes. His eyes move to the oddly-shaped bronze capsule near his feet, and he stretches a leg and taps a toe against it. "I figure bringing you this set an unfortunate precedent, and, well…" He shifts a little bit, looking very uncomfortable, but he speaks as haughtily as he can. "I figure it is down to me to look after you during your various…crises." He blinks slowly at Wayne, who is looking at him as if he's never seen him before, then slumps and shrugs a little. "It's all I can do."

Wayne laughs damply, and Megamind is pretty sure they're both remembering a day in early December when they were both teenagers. "Thanks, little buddy," he rasps. "Good to know I can count on you."

Megamind shrugs again and fiddles with a loose thread on his cape. "This wasn't your fault, you know."

Wayne just looks at him.

"No, really," Megamind insists, although he recognizes better than anyone the futility of arguing with someone who will not be convinced, "the inability to help – to even know that help is needed until it's too late – that's what makes humans _human_. It's completely normal."

"But _I'm not human_." Wayne shakes his head and picks Roxanne up as easily and thoughtlessly as if she had been a doll and sets her on his shoulder so that he can lean forward and rest his elbows on his knees while he explains. The movement is completely unconscious, completely natural – Roxanne catches Megamind's eye and shrugs, smiling apologetically. Wayne doesn't notice. "I _don't have_ that inability. I am perfectly capable of helping everyone in Metro City if they need it." He takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. "We are not born for ourselves alone. I mean, I have a moral obligation to help, right?"

Megamind's eyes go hard and sharp, and he swings his feet down to the floor and sits up straight. There's a roaring in his ears, and he suspects that now may not be the time, but he _cannot_ let Wayne think that way. "Are you serious? _Non nobis solum nati sumus?_ Cicero?" His voice is sharper and higher than normal, and Wayne blinks at him, startled. He hasn't seen Megamind's _I'm-about-to-freak-out_ face in a long time, and it brings him up short. "Are _you_ seriously trying to pull _Cicero?_ On _me?_" He hisses something under his breath and his expression turns downright ugly. "D-do not _even_. Don't even _try_. I _hate_ Cicero. For that specific reason."

Wayne looks around, completely bewildered. "What—I don't—"

"Moral obligations are _horseshit_," Megamind snarls, breathing hard through his nose, and Wayne's mouth falls open. "I don't care what anyone says, they're a load of crap. If you have a moral obligation to help Metro City, then, then wouldn't you also have a moral obligation to help everyone, everywhere in the world, just because you _can?_" He licks his lips. His hands flutter in the air in front of him, sketching trembling half-gestures, most of which resemble strangling motions. He's more agitated than Wayne has seen him in years. "And wouldn't _I_ have a moral obligation to…to…to hand over all of my inventions and discoveries to science? Or even to…to, I don't know, hand _myself_ back over to science?"

"Megamind," Roxanne says, very quietly, and Wayne is suddenly and uncomfortably aware that she's sitting on his shoulder. And that he had put her there in full view of her boyfriend, who until fairly recently had been under the impression that she and Wayne had been more than friends – the little blue man hasn't said anything about that, but maybe that's part of why he's gone all flaily and screechy? _Oops_. He picks her up again and puts her gently down on the sofa a safe distance away.

Megamind utters a sharp, shaky laugh, and makes a cutting motion in the air with one hand and makes no mention of Roxanne or her new proximity to Wayne. "Heck with _that_," he says shakily, "that ship has _sailed_. Cicero was simple-minded and idealistic and there's just no _point_." And he full-body _shudders_, spasming so hard he nearly falls off the chair.

Wayne blinks and cocks his head. "I don't think I've ever seen you reduced to incoherent babbling before," he marvels. "You really don't like Cicero, huh?"

Megamind rakes his hands down his face, grimacing and rolling his eyes back as he does so. "_I hate Cicero so much_," he moans. Then he snaps back to sobriety, aims a finger like a gun at Wayne's chest. "So don't you _ever_ try to argue moral obligations with me again. I won't have it."

"I have no idea what either of you is talking about," Roxanne announces, and Wayne actually laughs a little.

"I said something, and he freaked out," he says, "that's all I know."

Megamind pulls a face. "You quoted Cicero at me. You were going to say something like 'I _can_ do this, therefore I _must_ do this,' and that's just complete and utter _crap_, c'mon."

"But people will die if I don't," Wayne reminds him.

"That doesn't mean you _have_ to help them," Megamind argues.

"That doesn't mean they died because of you," Roxanne says, and Megamind brightens and points at her.

"Yes! _Thank you_," he exclaims, because that, _that_ is an argument that might actually work. "Look at it this way, what do you owe the city?"

"What do _you?_" Wayne shoots back. "You owe them even less than I do, but you still help them! You're their hero, now, never mind that they—" He pauses, looking uncomfortable, then mutters something that rhymes with _bucket_ and bulls ahead, "Never mind that _we_ treated you like trash!"

It's the closest Wayne has ever come to apologizing, and Megamind pulls back a little bit and blinks at him, thin lips quirking into a surprised half-smile for a split second before his face switches expressions as rapidly as it always does and goes back to stubborn and argumentative.

"Ah, no – I fixed the damage _I caused_. Jury's still out on whether that makes me a hero or just repentant. But _you_ were a hero for thirteen years for no reason other than that you wanted to be. And why? For what? The only way you can get any peace and quiet anymore is to hide in a sound-proofed underground fortress with the lights off!"

Wayne opens his mouth, then closes it again. Megamind has a point.

And Megamind sees that he's winning and grabs opportunity in a stranglehold. He scoots forward in his chair and pulls his feet up to the edge of the cushion, long legs bent double so that he can lean between his knees like an excited blue frog. "Okay, okay, think about this one. You like Cicero. Or you would if you'd read him – have you read him? No, no, don't tell me, I don't actually care. _Prima enim sequentem honestum est in secundis tertiisque consistere_."

"Honey, we don't speak Latin," Roxanne says flatly. "Stop showing off."

Wayne snorts, but Megamind shrugs and nods at her. "Fair enough. Sorry. What it means is that if you aspire to the highest place, there's no dishonor in stopping at the second or third." Wayne starts to speak, but Megamind talks loudly over him and starts ticking his fingers again. "Prior to retirement, you saved seven thousand, eight hundred and sixty-four lives. You directly averted nine hundred and seventy-two crimes, solved eighty-six, and if my calculations are correct – and they are, because _my_ calculations are _always_ correct, thank you very much – you indirectly prevented an estimated two thousand more. The highest place would be to save all lives and avert all crimes, but that is physically impossible even for you. Don't give me that look; I know how your super-speed works and I've done those calculations as well." Megamind leans forward and looks him in the eye. "You have done your duty to these people."

Wayne goggles at him. "You _counted?_"

Megamind cannot help but look a little bit smug as he settles back in his chair and stretches out again. "I kept a running tally. Does that qualify?"

Wayne has to grin a little bit. "I guess so," he says. "I can't believe you counted. That's just unbelievably…I don't even know. Seven thousand?"

Megamind grins back. "Well, I can't depend on _you_ to keep an accurate record, can I? Seven thousand, eight hundred and sixty-four. Round up to eight thousand, if you must. Or seventy-nine hundred if you want to be really accurate. "

Wayne just shakes his head. "You're insane."

Megamind lifts his chin, looks down his nose at the ex-hero. "I am not insane," he says. "I am wickedly, deviously intelligent."

Roxanne raises her hand, and Megamind looks at her.

"Can I ask a question?" She's been watching the exchange between Megamind and Wayne with some fascination – this is the first time she knows of that they've spoken in an informal setting where there aren't any ulterior motives. Megamind looks like he's uncomfortable and trying not to show it, and Wayne just looks confused.

When Wayne turns and blinks at her as well, Roxanne points at the fat gold rocketship on the coffee table. "What is that? And why did finding it set a precedent?"

She knows by the panicked expression that creeps onto Megamind's face that she might have asked the wrong thing, but Wayne actually snorts and shakes his head.

"When I was sixteen," he says, clearing his throat a bit, and maybe Megamind's desperate attempt to use philosophy did work because he isn't talking about fault anymore and his voice is stronger, "Mom told me where she and Father found me. In a space pod under their Christmas tree. She threw away the pod with the wrapping paper before she realized what it was."

"Bit of an airhead, your mother," Megamind remarks, his long fingers still tugging restlessly on the loose thread. "Nice woman, but not too bright."

Wayne shrugs and actually grins a little bit. "I had…a little bit of an identity crisis," he tells Roxanne, "and I thought…I don't actually know what I was thinking."

"Neither do I," Megamind grouses. "I _still_ don't know what you were thinking. Do you know how _annoying_ that is?"

"Something like, you know, we're both aliens, so I thought maybe you'd…I dunno."

"What? Understand?" Megamind looks like he might be trying not to laugh.

Wayne groans. "It was dumb, I know."

Megamind starts to make another sarcastic remark, then pauses. "Well," he says, more quietly than he'd meant to. "Not _so_ dumb. I guess."

Wayne half-smiles. "I remember you were pissed off."

"I was pissed off a lot in those days."

"You were," Wayne agrees. To Megamind's astonishment, he sounds almost nostalgic. "But you found my pod."

"I did." Megamind doesn't particularly like this vein of conversation. He's been a villain all his life as far as anyone knows, but he's played up the evil persona _especially_ in front of Metro Man, and old habits die hard. The topic does seem to be helping, though.

"And now you're…" Wayne shakes his head slowly, then frowns and rubs at his beard as his expression turns suddenly guarded. "You're here."

Megamind studies him for a moment, notes the way Wayne is watching him, the way tension has suddenly gathered in the big man's shoulders and neck. Wayne looks…really suspicious, actually.

And then the brief conversation in the car comes flooding back – _Wayne hasn't told anyone he's still alive_. Megamind hasn't given that much thought.

He's surprised for a moment, and then he thinks that maybe he shouldn't be. Who would Wayne tell? There was Roxanne, but she might have gone to the press. _Is there anyone else?_ Megamind wonders. He had used to monitor Wayne's interactions when they had been younger, tried to find a weakness, but there had been nothing. All of his socializing had been totally superficial. The people Megamind had thought were Metro Dude's friends had really only been followers.

Wayne had faked his death and told nobody because there had been nobody to tell. If Megamind had faked _his_ death, he knows he would at least have told Minion.

_Good lord_, he realizes, with an awful sort of start. _You're even lonelier than I am_.

"You're _thinking_ at me," Wayne says suddenly, and Megamind jumps. "You're doing that thing again. Where you sit there and think at me."

Megamind huffs a little and points at his cranium. "It's big," he says, "for a reason. You do realize that, right?"

"I'm not a _total_ idiot."

"Pfff," Megamind says, waving a hand at him in a vain attempt to lighten the mood. Wayne is _definitely_ going on the defensive, and it's making Megamind very nervous. "Yes, you are."

"I'm still right," Wayne insists, his eyes narrowing a little. He's learned to be wary of Megamind when the blue genius gets a certain look on his face, and that certain look had been _all over_ his face just a few seconds ago. "What is it?"

"What's what?"

Wayne snorts. "What face is _that?_ Is that supposed to be innocent?"

Megamind looks outraged. "It's not working? Still?"

"You look sick, dear," Roxanne tells him.

And that's when Wayne startles them both with, "Look, what do you want?" in a surprisingly sharp tone of voice.

Megamind blinks. "What?"

"If _you_ are going for _innocent_, something's up," Wayne states flatly, and sits forward, bracing his hands on the cushions and meeting Megamind's bewildered gaze with a steady one of his own.

_Oh crap on a cracker_, Megamind thinks, and edges back in his chair. _He's not defensive anymore, he's aggressive. Great_.

He had forgotten, briefly, that Wayne is emotionally vulnerable at the moment – emotionally vulnerable, and unable to understand why the creature who had been his most hated enemy would ever bother caring whether his father lived or died. Judging by the way Wayne is looking at him – as if he's getting ready to jump – he's expecting Megamind to have something up his sleeve. It's not a totally unreasonable assumption. Megamind has only been to Wayne's hideout twice before; once to ask him to go out of hiding and the other to rant at him for a while and pretend to ask his advice. Both times, he's had an ulterior motive. Megamind has almost _always_ had an ulterior motive for talking to Wayne.

Megamind thinks desperately, trying to figure out a way to explain to Wayne exactly where they stand with one another and still maintain his dignity.

"Hey. I asked you a question," Wayne says when Megamind shows no sign that he's going to respond. "_What do you want?_ You…want me to go public? Is that it?"

Megamind blinks again, blindsided. Where had _that_ come from?

"Oh don't look so _surprised_," Wayne snaps, and even he is surprised at how bitter he sounds. "You want to…to guilt me into putting the cape back on, right? Admit that I was never dead? Wait 'til I've let my guard down, then come in here and help me see the light?"

"_Wayne_," Roxanne protests, because Megamind is just staring at him with his mouth open and his eyes huge, and Wayne jumps and looks over at her. He had actually forgotten she was there. Then he realizes another, more probable scenario.

"Oh, no, wait, _I_ get it now." Wayne shakes his head, vastly disappointed and vastly angry. "You just…want to make sure nothing happens between Roxie and me, huh? That's great, that's real nice. She's a grown woman, she doesn't need a chaperone!"

"Hey, now," Roxanne begins, but Wayne ignores her, glares at Megamind.

"What, she's not allowed to have her own _friends_ now? You're a real –"

And Megamind loses his temper.

"I am _here_ because I am _worried about you_, you dumb jock!" He forgets whatever response he had been working on; Wayne has just crossed a _big_ line. "Jeezy Kreezy, and I thought _I_ had issues," Megamind snarls, his lip curling as he glares right back at Wayne. "Didn't I just _tell you_ that you didn't owe the city a thing anymore? _Didn't I _just_ say that?_ Were you not listening? Because _I_ thought I was pretty clear about it."

Uncertainty creeps into Wayne's livid expression, and he falters. "You…I…what?"

"And if you think – do you _really think_ – that _I_ would – that I would ever come here, to you, _at this of all times_, to try to _extort favors from you?_" Megamind's voice rises sharply and his face contorts into a mask of horrified, offended disgust. "Really, Wayne? _Really?_ Me? Would I ever ever _ever_ try to take advantage of someone mourning his _family?_ Is that, is that _honestly_ what you think of me?"

Megamind's voice echoes out of Wayne's memory – _"I remember everyone screaming, and I remember sirens blaring. And yes, I remember my parents."_

Wayne's mouth opens, but no sound comes out. The injured expression lingers on Megamind's face for a moment, and then switches back to one of affronted wrath.

"Oh, _and another thing_," he adds viciously. "Roxanne can do what she wants. I trust her. I trust her with my life. I would _never_ try to control her like that. And you do _her_ a great disservice by doubting even for a second that if I ever tried, she would be off like a shot. You know her better than that. I _thought_ you knew _me_ better than that, too, but," he lets out a short, bitter laugh, "I guess I can't be right all the time, _can I_."

"Wayne, did you really think we came here to make you do something?" Roxanne asks quietly.

Wayne glances at her, then stares back at Megamind again, stammering. "Well – not, not _you_, I…but he, I don't…"

"No, it's okay, it's cool," Megamind snaps. "You just go on thinking I'm an insensitive prick, that's fine."

Wayne flushes. "I don't think you're an insensitive prick," he mutters.

"Wow, really?" Megamind's eyes widen in mock surprise. "Because that sure is what it sounded like to me. No, shut up," he adds sharply when Wayne opens his mouth, "you've got me started, now, and you're going to hear me out because if I do not say this _right now_ I never will. Okay. Okay. The way I see it, _since you asked so nicely_, you and I are stuck with each other."

He starts ticking things off on his fingers without waiting for Wayne to reply. "We fled a black hole together, we crash-landed at the same time, _we grew up together_, you have been a thorn in my side from the time that I was eight days old and I flatter myself that I have been a similar thorn in yours." When Wayne nods, mystified, Megamind continues. "Those metaphorical thorns are from the same metaphorical tree. Neither of us would be who he is today without the other. We gave each other _purpose_. Yes?" He raises his eyebrows and looks at Wayne as if daring him to argue.

"Well, sure, yeah, but…"

"As far as I'm concerned, that makes us – well. That. That makes us family." Megamind's ears slowly start to turn pink, and he manages, if possible, to look even angrier. "I may not like you, Wayne Scott, and you may not like me, but I think we understand one another and we certainly can't get _rid_ of each other. And what's more—" He breaks off suddenly, bites his lip, then forges furiously ahead. "What's more, we wouldn't even if we could. So, yes." He glowers at Wayne, defiant and fidgeting. "Yes, I am here. Not because I particularly enjoy your company, but because I think that if I were in your shoes – if I had just lost Minion – you would be in the Lair.

"There, _you were right_," he finishes scathingly, and sits back in the chair and clenches his arms over his chest. "I was _thinking_."

And Wayne can only stare at him. He knows what that kind of admission must have cost Megamind, who wears his pride like armor and his attitude like a shield.

And then he realizes just how badly his desperate accusations must have hurt the other alien, and he slumps forward and scrubs a hand down over his face. "I'm…dammit, Blue, I _am_ an idiot," he groans, and prepares for Megamind's sharp voice to give him another upbraiding.

There's a long silence, and then Megamind says, "Yeah, you are. But…" He heaves a tired sigh, and mutters the next bit under his breath. "You're also the closest thing to a brother I'm ever likely to have."

Wayne looks up, stunned speechless. He has always thought of Megamind as a child, enthusiastic and immature, but now Megamind's smooth face is lined with a combination of embarrassment and hidden grief, and Wayne realizes that Megamind is actually probably older than he is, emotionally speaking, and has been for a very long time.

"It gets easier, you know," Megamind says. "It takes time, but it does get easier. Losing someone this way isn't…it isn't easy. You're in shock. You're in shock and you have your own issues to deal with, and as long as we're all claiming to be stupid, I should add that _I_ am spectacularly unobservant for not understanding that before. And I'm sorry. For yelling. You didn't need that. You didn't deserve that."

He slouches back in his chair, crosses his legs, and steeples his fingers. "I don't really care if you believe any of what I just said," he begins, looking completely blasé about the whole thing, and Wayne laughs in his face. Really laughs. He can't help it. Megamind just stops talking and blinks at him, nonplussed.

"You," Wayne manages, "are such a _liar_. You freak out all over the place and then pretend everything's fine, it's all good? You are _such_ a liar."

Megamind blinks again, then cracks a weak smile. "Yeah. A bit."

Wayne's shocked laughter subsides as quickly as it had started, and he shakes his head and sighs. "…God. I am a wreck. I'm sorry, no, that was my fault. You shouldn't have to deal with me like this."

"Shut it. We're not leaving." Megamind tilts his head and tries for a change of subject. "Hey, have you had breakfast?"

Wayne shakes his head again. "Turned on the news before I even got coffee," he says. "And then I…kind of got distracted."

Megamind looks amazed, and just a little disturbed. "You haven't even had _coffee_ yet?" He gets to his feet, scowling. "I'm making coffee. Where's the kitchen?"

"I don't have a coffee maker."

"_What?_" Megamind throws his hands into the air. "All right, that's it. I lied. I'm leaving, and I'm bringing back coffee, and I'm bringing back breakfast. Actually, no, on second thought, you're coming, too. You need some air."

Wayne exhales slowly and looks up at him. "No."

Megamind pauses. "No?"

"No. Sorry, little buddy." Wayne shrugs and rests his forehead in one massive palm, his eyes sliding closed. "I _really_ do not want to go anywhere."

Megamind stands and looks at him for a moment, then surprises everyone by leaning over the table and putting his hand, very lightly and just for the space of a breath, on the back of Wayne's head.

"Okay, sad panda," he says. "You stay. I'll go get food." He glances at Roxanne, raises his eyebrows in a silent question, and she nods.

Good. He turns around and heads out the door without another word. Roxanne's voice follows him out the door: "Wayne, you look _awful_, how late were you up last night?"

"Two, three AM," the ex-hero mumbles as the door clicks shut. He feels horrible, but he actually relaxes a little as soon as he knows Megamind is out of the room. "I was reading and I lost track of time."

Roxanne rolls her eyes heavenward. "Someday I will have friends who actually go to sleep at normal hours. What the heck were you reading that kept you up so late?"

Wayne colors and mutters something. Roxanne leans closer. "Sorry? I didn't catch that."

"I said, I was studying. Kind of."

Roxanne blinks, baffled. "Studying?"

Wayne sighs and bends down, paws around under the sofa for a moment, then silently passes Roxanne a language dictionary, a grammar handbook, a pack of handwritten flash cards, a notebook, and a slim novel. Roxanne blinks down at the dictionary. "Okay, what's this?"

"It's a Chinese-English dictionary, what does it look like?" Wayne looks embarrassed. "It's…it's nothing, it's just something I've been meaning to do for _years_ only I never had time before."

Roxanne stares down at the educational material in her lap. "Are you…trying to teach yourself Chinese?" When Wayne nods, she says, "_Why?_"

"It's kind of a long story."

Roxanne smiles and waits.

Wayne shakes his head. "It was years ago. I went to the Lair for…something, and Blue was looking at something in a microscope and writing in a notebook. In Chinese. We were seventeen or so at the time and I was…I dunno, I was impressed. I'd taken German for a few years at that point, but _Chinese_, man, that's heavy. That's hard." He looks into the distance, frowning.

Roxanne says nothing. If she doesn't say anything, Wayne will keep talking, and right now, he _needs_ to talk. His parents are dead, yes, but the bulk of the conversation thus far has steered him away from that subject – which is fine, he needs the distraction, but there's something else brewing here. Wayne never just _talks_ like this, and Roxanne doesn't want to interrupt him.

"And you know, I think that was when I first realized that he really was intelligent. I'd always figured he cheated, and that's why his grades were so good and all of his coursework was always done. But then there he was, right in front of me, writing in Chinese with one hand and English with the other and it looked _so cool_, and that's not something you can fake, either. My grades were never _bad_, but I'm no genius. I coasted. And I _know_ the teachers were liberal with their grading where I was concerned. I'd say about twenty percent of my final GPA was a total joke. But language, I mean, and science and engineering and all that stuff he does, that's _real_. That's…you can touch it, it's not…it doesn't depend on people's opinions of you. And it's not a comparison thing, either. I was born with these powers, I never worked for them. And I remember standing there and looking at him and thinking, _holy shit, it's not just for show, he's actually brilliant_." Wayne pauses for a moment and makes a small, disgusted noise in the back of his throat. "God, that sounds so shallow. Like I'd _just_ _then_ realized."

Then he laughs a little. "Heck, that was half the fun of fighting with him. I never knew what he was gonna come up with next. Anyway. I…I looked at that, and I thought, _why can't I do that?_" He looks up at Roxanne. "You know. Why not? If _he_ can do it…it's a _language_, loads of people learn foreign languages. I got pretty good at German. I'm not _stupid_. I'm not. So now that I've finally got free time, I…I figured I'd give it a go."

"So how's it going?" Roxanne flips through the notebook, glances at the untidy scrawl of tangled characters.

Wayne waves an irritated gesture in the air. "It's _hard_. It's damn near impossible. I've got loads of respect for the little guy if he can teach himself stuff like _that_. I just, I need to stick with this." He leans back and throws one massive forearm across his eyes. "I've had a _lot_ of free time, lately. I don't know, I just thought…I just thought, maybe, maybe I'll start a project and actually _finish_ it for once, you know? Mom was always after me to finish what I started, but I never did…"

He falls silent for a moment. "I probably won't finish this one either."

Roxanne's heart twists in her chest. "Wayne…"

"He was wrong, you know. He just assumed I wouldn't know what he was talking about, but I _have_ read Cicero. I didn't really understand all of it, but I've read a lot of stuff over the past few months and I might go back and skim through it again. It's all I've _been_ doing, to keep from… I tried spending time online but I kept reading the news and feeling like…like I should be out there, helping, but I _can't_, I just, I can't." He swallows and forces himself away from that line of thinking. "So yeah, I've been doing a lot of reading.

"You know, I never went to college?" he asks suddenly, but he doesn't sound like he wants an answer. "I went straight into the hero business. I never had to go to college. I have money coming out of my ears so I never had to learn a trade, and besides, I was always destined to be a hero. I've been a hero ever since I graduated high school – since before that, even. And it sounds dumb but I'm only just starting to realize how much I missed. There's so much I want to _learn_, and I've never had time before, and now I have all the time in the world but I just can't…I can't enjoy it. I keep thinking, I should be _out there_, I should be _doing_ something with my life. Eight thousand lives, and all I can think about is all the ones I didn't save. And all the ones I'm not saving right now."

He sits up and looks wildly at Roxanne, almost begging for her to understand, for _someone_ to understand what he's trying to say. "But it's _my life!_" he exclaims. "It's the only one I'm going to get! Why can't I just do something for _me_, for once? I don't…can't I do that? Why do _I_ have to save everyone? Why is that _my_ job? If I ever come out of hiding, they're gonna say I abandoned them, I left them, they're gonna say I wasn't _allowed_ to just quit – and they're gonna be right! They'll be right." He stares at her, and Roxanne stares back with absolutely no idea of how to answer, and then Wayne just sort of wilts, dropping his head and rubbing his hands backwards through his tangled hair, and then his shoulders hitch and he's crying, he can't help it. "I – dang it, I'm _sorry_, gimme a minute –"

"You can cry."

"No, just hang on, all right? I'm fine, I'll be fine."

Roxanne's eyes narrow. Now _there's_ a familiar line.

It takes Wayne less than a minute to bring himself back under control. "I can't go back." He clenches his fingers in his hair. "I can't. I don't want to. I don't want it. I thought I did – once – but I don't, I don't, I _can't_."

"You don't have to," Roxanne says, but Wayne draws a ragged breath and collapses further in on himself.

"Then why can't I just quit?" he whispers. "Why can't I just let it go?"

Roxanne's phone chirps, and she releases such a loud and varied string of chagrined profanity that it startles even her, but that was _really_ not the time for someone to text her. That was just about the _worst possible time_. She isn't even going to look at it, but then Wayne says dully, "What's he say?"

Roxanne blinks at him, uncomprehending. "Who?"

Wayne swallows. "Blue. What's he say?"

"Uh…" Roxanne fishes out her phone and looks at it – sure enough, it's from Megamind. She looks at Wayne. "How did you know?"

"Because he knows me."

Roxanne shakes her head and looks at the texts – it's too long so it separated into several parts. _Bring on the self-loathing_, it reads. _If I'm right, he's been trying to avoid this for a while now but the fire just brought everything crashing down at once and now his instinct for self-preservation and his hero complex are duking it out in his subconscious. Tell him he needs to keep remembering that the hero-guilt is a complex. Oh AND he'll be guilty about his parents because his mind is refusing to focus on them, so be prepared for that_. _Also, what do you think of maybe seeing if we can get Minion to talk to him? I think he might need a minion right about now_.

Roxanne looks at Wayne, then texts, _U may b rite but I dont thnk he'll talk 2 minion. Ill try n get him 2 talk 2 me. Stop txtng & drvng_. Aloud, she tells Wayne, "He says you have a guilt complex." She silences her phone and puts it away.

Wayne makes a disgruntled noise. "I know _that_ already. But the guilt's there for a reason. I'm being selfish."

"No, you aren't," Roxanne says flatly. "That's why it's a complex. You've always been a hero. Now you aren't, and you don't know what to do. You don't know who you are without the hero." And then she has an idea, pulls out her phone, types and sends one last quick text. "Wayne. You know what you need to do?"

"What?"

"You need to listen to _My Life_ until your ears bleed."

Wayne looks up at her. "Billy Joel?" he asks, sounding baffled.

Roxanne nods firmly. "Yup. And then you need to listen to Bon Jovi's…I don't remember what the title is but it's pretty much the same thing. Because of…" She thinks for a moment. _What did he say they were? C'mon, Roxie, we just talked about this yesterday_. "Um…_neural pathways!_ That was it."

"What," says Wayne again.

"If you listen to good music until it gets stuck on infinite loop in your head, I bet it'll help. Build up productive strings of molecules in your brain until they outnumber the bad strings of molecules. Or something."

Wayne laughs shortly. "Let Blue explain it. He's the genius. But thanks for trying." He heaves a massive, uneven sigh, and scrubs at his eyes. "Argh. I'm sorry, that came out really bad. I just… I wish I could talk to my mom, but she wouldn't understand. Father never did either. Not like it matters now, anyway," he mutters. "My life is just a shambles. I don't know who I am, I don't know what I'm doing, I don't even know who I _want_ to be or what I _want_ to do, and now this fire…funeral arrangements and insurance policies…but technically I'm dead, too, so _that's_ a bust."

He sighs again, and it's obvious to Roxanne how tired he is. "Hey," she says quietly. "Did you ever tell your parents you were still alive?"

Wayne's silence is answer enough.

"Oh _Wayne_," Roxanne says.

"I didn't mean for it to go on this long," Wayne mumbles. He doesn't look at her. "I just wanted to be left alone 'til I could figure out what I was doing. I just wanted to come up with something that would make them understand."

Wayne's father had always been difficult to please, and his mother followed her husband's lead. They could very easily have guilted Wayne out of hiding. Roxanne groans and pinches the bridge of her nose for a second. Wayne is very good at not dealing with things if he doesn't want to deal with them. He's very stubborn, and very opinionated, and he sees the world the way he wants to see it, but Roxanne knows – and she really doesn't want to go where she's going to go in a minute, but it needs to be said – Roxanne knows what that's like because she's the same way.

"Okay, you. Lie down." She reaches out and pokes Wayne in the middle of the forehead. "You are going to take a nap, and you're going to deal with this when you're better rested. Okay?"

Wayne manages a half-smile and a nod. "Yeah," he whispers. "Yeah, okay."

"One more thing," Roxanne says, steeling herself, and waits until Wayne finally looks at her again. "You are allowed to cry."

He shakes his head. "I don't wanna unload on you, you don't need that –"

"Wayne. You are one of my closest friends. You know things about me that nobody else does." There's something in Roxanne's tone – a warning, a sharpness, that catches Wayne's attention. Roxanne locks eyes with him and takes a deep breath. "But there are things even you don't know. And I am telling you right now that I know what you're going through. The circumstances were different but I do know what it feels like to go through life telling yourself that you're fine, you're fine, you're fine, everything is totally fine even though it isn't, even though it's killing you." She can feel herself getting shaky, and she licks her lips and forces her voice to stay steady. "And I know what it is to come out of that. And I know what it's like to feel like everything that went wrong with your life is your fault. And I am telling you right now that it is _not_ your fault, and you _are_ allowed to cry." She offers him a very wobbly smile. "God knows I did."

Wayne stares at her for a long moment, and she stares back – if she moves, if she even blinks, she thinks she might break into a million little pieces.

Then white membranes slide sideways over Wayne's eyes just before he squeezes them shut, and then he leans forward and drags Roxanne to him and just _sobs_, choking on juddering gasps that rack his massive frame. And Roxanne grabs onto the back of his shirt and ignores the fact that she's going to have bruises after this and cries right back. Megamind isn't there, he won't see Roxanne crying on Wayne the way she's never cried on him. And bruises are nothing new.

"S-sorry, I'm—"

"No, it's okay, I _told_ you—"

"O-okay, okay _sorry_, I'm sorry, I just don't know what I'm d-doing and I _can't_, I can't, I can't—"

"I know, I know, it's _okay_, you don't _have_ to."

It isn't quiet, and it isn't restrained, and it isn't pretty. It's loud and it's open and it's raw. And it hurts. Roxanne is surprised how much it hurts. It's not even about _her_, and it still hurts.

"I miss them," Wayne gasps. "Every day. It's like I'm betraying my _family_ but I think about them and I miss them and I don't even _remember_ them, and I didn't _mean_ to stay away this long but I just _couldn't_ face him and tell him that I quit, but now – but _now_—"

"He knows. And he understands."

Wayne shakes his head wildly. "But I should have _been there_ – I should have saved them –"

"You didn't know!" Roxanne exclaims. "You couldn't know."

He lets out a torn, angry sound that turns into, "_Yes I could have!_ It's my _job!_ Nobody else, nobody…there's nobody else who can do it. It falls to me. It's my _duty_."

"It's your _life!_" Roxanne cries. "You should do what you want with your life. You _know_ that, I know you know that, you _said_ you knew that."

Wayne freezes, then curls up a little. He may be physically invulnerable, but he is no stranger to pain. "But how can I make myself believe it?" he chokes out. "Roxie. How do I just _quit?_"

If there's an answer to that, Roxanne doesn't know what it is. She just holds onto him and rocks him and hopes the storm passes soon. It's all she can do.


	8. Chapter 8

I'm not dead! And it looks like I can post this before finals week goes into full swing, so. I apologize for the delay. Life. Crazy. Papers and things. Exams. Also, writer's block. Not a good combination!

But here we are anyway. I hope it turned out okay.

Chapter 8, in which Megamind and Wayne have a really freaking long conversation, Megamind overheats, and Wayne freaks out (again).

Due to the really freaking long conversation, this chapter is _full_ of things I don't own. I do not own the lyrics to the chemistry song, and the 'remember, remember' parody is something I saw on Reddit. I also don't own Google or epi-pens or AC/DC. I don't own _The Treasure of the Sierra Madre_. Oh, and I don't own the characters or the setting.

Look, let's just assume that nothing in here is mine, okay? Don't sue me.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

Megamind nudges the door open with his hip because his arms are full of bags, then stops and stares at the scene in front of him.

He tilts his head and considers how to react to this, because while he can't help but be a _little_ bit jealous, Wayne and Roxanne right now may actually be the most adorable thing he's ever seen and he simply cannot be upset about it. Wayne is sprawled flat on his back, one arm and leg trailing over the side and onto the floor because he is broader than the sofa cushions and there isn't enough room for him to lie flat on some small beds, let alone a couch. His other arm is slung lazily across Roxanne, who is curled up on the middle of his chest, going slowly up and down as he breathes. Both of them are fast asleep.

Megamind ducks into the room, closes the door quietly behind him and puts one of the bags on the floor, and then starts hunting around for a kitchen.

He trots through the doorway Wayne had come through the first time he had found Megamind and Roxanne browsing around his – it's not a Lair, call it a Fortress – and discovers that the Metro Man memorabilia isrestricted to the front room. The hallway is richly carpeted and done up in the same white and gold color scheme, but there's nary a photograph or medal in sight. Megamind sees what looks like a refrigerator through the doorway at the far left end of the hall, and heads that way.

Wayne's kitchen is smaller than the one at the Lair, but it's just as well-stocked. Wayne seems to have a fondness for copper fixtures and pots; he has one of those nifty hanging racks suspended over an island with bar stools around it in the middle of the room, and all of the pots and pans hanging from it are of the copper variety.

_Copper_, Megamind thinks, and chuckles. _I can't believe I fell for that_.

He sets the rest of his bags down carefully on the island and starts unpacking. He doesn't know what is going to stay with Wayne and what he'll end up taking back to the Lair with him, but certain things need to be refrigerated and there's no point in letting them sit out on the counter.

After he had arrived at the grocery store, he had begun to wonder if it was impolite of him to buy food, since he has only a vague idea of what Wayne's tastes are and doesn't know what he needs. His initial assumption had been that Wayne just wasn't going feel like going grocery shopping any time soon, and he had finally rationalized it by deciding that whatever he brought back that Wayne didn't want, he could give to Minion.

And, honestly, Megamind had just wanted to get out of the Fortress. He had been overreacting to _everything_, and he had just needed to escape. He has his head back in order now, so hopefully he'll be a bit better when Wayne wakes up.

The fridge is already pretty full, but only about half of its contents can be called 'edible' – the milk has long since gone sour and Megamind isn't entirely sure what the stuff in the little tupperwares on the bottom shelf used to be. He removes and disposes of them.

Then, in the interest of self-preservation, he scrounges up a pair of yellow rubber gloves from Wayne's bathroom. They're miles too big for him, but they're better than nothing.

As he's cleaning the refrigerator, Megamind forms a tentative hypothesis: _If you are what you eat, then cleaning out a near-stranger's fridge is a good way to learn about him_.

For example, he learns pretty quickly that Wayne's fondness for yogurt borders on the obscene. There is _way_ too much yogurt in there for one bachelor to ever be able to eat before it goes bad. Shortly after he disposes of the spoiled ones, he expands 'fondness for yogurt' to 'obsession with dairy products in general.' If the titles of the books on the dining table are anything to go by, Wayne is something of a cheese aficionado. There's string cheese in a drawer, but Megamind is pretty sure it's a guilty pleasure; it's hiding in the back, behind the Molbo and Tetilla and Humboldt Fog and Selles su Cher and the list just goes on and on.

_How many different cheeses are there, anyway? _he wonders, pulling one out at random and looking at the label. _Duddleswell? What the heck is Duddleswell? What's wrong with cheddar? …Ah, here we go, cheddar_. He turns it over and blinks at it, then loses just a little of his faith in humanity. _Why is it seven years old? Who eats this stuff? Who _makes_ this stuff?_

He takes out all the questionable food, the rotten food, and the moldy food. His curiosity gets the better of him again when he finds the thing in the bag with the tall white fuzz on it, and he cuts into it in a half-hearted attempt to find out what it was. He suspects that it may once have been a cucumber.

Most of the vegetables he finds have gone bad, but none of the meat is spoiled. The quantity of yogurt may just have been the result of an overenthusiastic shopping trip; it's fairly obvious that Wayne eats _most_ of what he buys. Megamind sits back on his heels and thinks for a moment. He is not at all surprised that Wayne is a protein man, but why does he buy vegetables and then allow them to go moldy?

And there is _no fruit_. .He peers into the back of the bottom drawer, hoping that maybe he'll find something good back there, then stops dead and reaches in and pulls out a stack of…petri dishes?

He shuffles through them. There are a couple of nice Penicillium and Aspergillus cultures and one Epicoccum culture that is absolutely _gorgeous_. The rest are a little on the sparse side. None of them are labeled.

He sits and looks at them for a bit, then just puts them back where he had found them. He re-stocks Wayne's refrigerator, being careful to avoid the mold cultures. Then he turns his attention to the pantry.

It's fairly empty, and seems to be much less of a biohazard than the refrigerator. Megamind immediately sets about putting away the soups he bought – he remembers that Wayne had, without fail, _always_ bought school lunches on the days when there had been broccoli cheddar soup, so he had mainly stuck to cheese and vegetable soups that called for milk instead of water. After having looked in Wayne's fridge, Megamind is confident that he had made the right choice.

Then he gets to a shelf populated by a single cardboard box labeled, '_Bot_,' and his curiosity gets the better of him. He opens the flaps and finds himself looking down at a lonely can of asparagus, the top of which is bulging ominously.

_Oh my god_. Megamind hastily closes the box, then shuts his eyes and leans against the doorframe and bites his lip, trying very hard not to laugh.

He puts the box carefully down in the hallway outside the kitchen, then continues to explore. It turns out to be a very entertaining exploration, indeed.

In addition to the mold in the fridge and the box of gastrointestinal horror waiting to happen in the pantry, Megamind finds a microscope and a box of clean slides under the sink, a half-filled test tube rack on top of the refrigerator, several sizes of graduated cylinders lined up by height on the back of the stove, and a neat little array of bismuth crystals in a decorative plate next to the fridge. He tries to ignore the glass containers of powder labeled "_Aluminum_" and "_Blue Rust_," but doesn't succeed because there's a third container behind them, almost empty, labeled "_Thermite :)_".

But when he finds the sodium bisulfate hanging out next to the ammonia (also under the sink, behind the happy-face thermite) and saltpeter, he just _has_ to sit down and laugh for a bit, because _really, Wayne, why?_

Still giggling under his breath, Megamind finally unpacks the new coffee maker and sets it up on the counter by the sink, then tells it to start brewing.

And then there's not much left to do after that but further violate Wayne's privacy, but Megamind resists that urge as long as he can. He takes the liberty of re-filling the thermite container, tucking the collar of his shirt up over his nose because despite Wayne's rather impressive stock of toxic substances, he can't find masks anywhere.

That done, he sighs and looks around, frowning. The kitchen is close to spotless, as far as kitchens go, or Megamind would have cleaned it just for something to _do_. He's tempted to clear out the refrigerator and disinfect the whole thing, but suspects that might be a bit much.

_Actually…_ He turns and looks at the innocuous cupboard under the sink. Ammonia is a cleaning product, and sodium bisulfate is _almost_ a cleaning product. All he would need are a few more ingredients, and he wants to run back to the Lair anyway to see how Minion is getting on. The refrigerator definitely _needs_ to be cleaned.

And Megamind is bored.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

When Wayne finally blinks his eyes open, the very first thing he sees is Roxanne, who is still fast asleep on his chest. He carefully picks her up and puts her down on the couch above his head before sitting up and stretching. Roxanne hasn't given any sign that she's going to wake any time soon, so he pulls one of his old capes off of its form and covers her up with it.

Then he frowns and looks at the door to the hallway, which is closed. It's almost never closed all the way like that. Frowning, Wayne opens the door, then frowns and tilts his head, listening. The inner as well as the outer walls of his Fortress are as soundproofed as he can make them, but there's still some noise that gets through under doors and through vents and suchlike, and he can't quite believe what his ears are telling him. He steps quietly into the hall and looks around.

There's someone in his kitchen, the door to which is also closed. Megamind, probably, but…is he _singing?_

It sounds like some kind of jig, but it's very faint and even with his super-hearing, Wayne isn't sure that he can make out the words – he _thinks_ it's in English. Whatever it is, it's woefully off-key. Mystified, he follows the source of the noise and pushes open the kitchen door as quietly as he can.

Megamind is on his knees on the floor in front of the fridge with his sleeves rolled up over his elbows, a scrubbing brush in one hand and a rag in the other and a bucket of some liquid off to one side. And, yes, he's singing. "_Paradimethylaminobenzaldehyde, powdered aluminum, nitrogen iodide, chlorates, permanganates, nitrates galore, have one of these and you'll never need more_."

Wayne quickly slaps a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing, but he can already tell he's going to lose that battle.

"_Whiskey, tequila and rum are too tame, no; the stuff that I drink must explode into flame. When I sneeze I dissolve all the paint in the room and then rattle the walls with an earth-shaking boom!_" Megamind wrings the rag out over the bucket with an enthusiastic flourish, and goes back to scrubbing. He's smiling, by the sound of it. "_Paradimethylaminobenzaldehyde, go soak your head in a jar of formaldehyde, scrub very hard and then rinse out your mane in _—"

Wayne can't help it. He snorts loudly, and Megamind yells and spins on his knees.

For a moment, all they can do is stare at one another in amusement and consternation, and then Megamind throws up his hands. "Well, there goes my image."

Wayne bursts out laughing.

"All of it," Megamind continues, "straight out the window. There it goes. Oh, look, it's flying away! Yep, it's gone. _What_ you must think of me."

"I think," Wayne chuckles, "I think you are wickedly, deviously intelligent."

Megamind looks pleased. "How astute of you," he says. "That is exactly what I am."

Wayne almost steps onto the wet floor, then thinks better of it and flies over to sit on the island. "Did you write that yourself?"

"Oh, no," Megamind says quickly, and pinkish color spreads from his ears to the rest of his face. "No, I found it on the internet; I just thought it was cool. Because I am a nerd like that. You're judging me."

"Of course not!" Wayne exclaims, because the smaller alien's ears look like they must be _burning_. Then Megamind shoots him a dirty look, and he amends it to, "Well, maybe a little. But it's not, um…" He takes a deep breath and blurts out the only thing he can think of that will level the playing field. "'remember, remember the twenty-third of October, the payday and bourbon we bought," he recites. "I once had a reason I bought all that bourbon, but I'm drunk, and now I've forgot.'"

There is a very brief, shocked silence, and then Megamind demands, "What on _Earth_ was that?"

Wayne chuckles self-consciously and drums his fingers on the edge of the counter. "That," he says, "was something Sam said once back in high school. He was the one with the fake ID. We got _really_ drunk."

Megamind blinks and sits back on his heels. "I can't get drunk," he says frankly. "I can't metabolize that kind of alcohol. It does bad things to my system."

"Really?" Wayne replies, curious. "Huh. I'm allergic to pollen." Megamind rolls his eyes, but Wayne shakes his head. "No," he says, "like, _really_ allergic. Like, so bad that I can't even eat some kinds of fruit or vegetables."

"You get sick if you eat them?"

"If by 'sick' you mean 'go into anaphylaxis,' then yes, I get sick."

Megamind frowns. "But then how do you…oh. Lactose?"

Wayne is confused for a few seconds, then laughs when comprehension dawns. "I see you looked in my fridge."

"I have never seen so much yogurt in one place!" Megamind exclaims, wide-eyed. Then he pauses. "I threw away the bad ones. I hope you don't mind."

Wayne chuckles and waves it away, then decides that this may be a good time to lay a potential issue to rest. "I borrowed your girlfriend," he says, trying to sound as offhand about it as possible. "For cuddle purposes only. I hope _you_ don't mind."

To his relief, Megamind grins. "You…girlfriend…cuddle stealer, you," he accuses Wayne brightly. "I don't know that I will ever forgive you."

Wayne grins back. "Thanks." He looks around for some other topic of conversation, because he isn't sure he can handle an awkward silence with Megamind right now. It isn't difficult. "Why are you cleaning my floor?"

Megamind purses his lips and nods slowly as if contemplating an answer. "Well," he says at last. "Between all the moldy food in your fridge, the chemicals under your sink, and the can of _botulism_ in your pantry…I figured I might as well go ahead and just disinfect your whole kitchen. Also, I was bored and I didn't want to wake you up."

"It's not my fault the veggies and stuff went bad," Wayne protests. "_You_ try to go to the supermarket and buy only one Brussels sprout. Just you _try_ and do that."

"You could have thrown it away," Megamind points out. And, okay, he may be correct, but that doesn't mean Wayne has to agree. "And why did you even _have_ that kind of food if you can't eat it?"

Wayne colors. "It was an experiment," he defends himself. "I wasn't sure what all I was really allergic to. When I was little, we just sort of avoided fruits and veggies entirely. I want to know what my limits are." Then, when Megamind only stares at him, he sighs. "Let's just say I went through a lot of auto-injectors. Epi-whatsits."

Megamind's whole body goes rigid. "You…have you lost your _mind?_" he gasps. "You _never_ experiment with your own health! Had you even…" His expression turns frantic. "Please tell me you had used an epinephrine auto-injector before. Please, tell me you had."

Wayne blinks. He's more than accustomed to Megamind's wide range of facial expressions at this point and he knows that Megamind tends to push them to extremes, but Megamind doesn't seem like he's acting this time. The sheer vehemence of Megamind's response startles him. "Well, no, I never had to before, but…" He trails off as Megamind's jaw goes slack and the color drains from his face.

"For all you knew, adrenaline could have made it _worse!_" Megamind cries. His hands are clenched into fists on either side of him and his green eyes are wide. "For all you knew, you might not even _have_ adrenal glands! Adrenaline is not a toy! You could have _died!_"

"'S not like anybody'd miss me."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Wayne has to wonder where they had come from. He hadn't meant to say that, really. But it's true, isn't it?

Megamind's mouth falls open, and he stares at Wayne as if he's been betrayed. He looks horrified. Then he shuts his mouth and scrunches his face into an angry glare. "That's not true," he manages, and unless Wayne is very much mistaken, his voice is shaking. "Roxanne would. And so would I."

"But you _hate_ me!" Wayne protests and Megamind shakes his head hard from side to side in the most fervent show of speechless denial Wayne has ever seen. And the whole situation is just so completely mad that Wayne can't let it go. "Yes you do, you've always hated me, just because you said you can't get rid of me doesn't mean –"

"_I said I wouldn't even if I could!_" Megamind snaps, and Wayne actually jumps. Megamind glares up at him, his expression thunderous, his teeth bared in a soundless snarl. "Are you going to make me actually _say_ it? I already told you once today! How many times do I have to tell you?" he demands. "For the love of Albert, do I have to draw you pictures? I would miss you. I would _mourn_ you. Put _that_ in your Google and search it."

Wayne stares at him for a moment, unwilling to even _wonder _whether or not to believe him, then shakes his head and reaches for anger – if he doesn't get mad, he'll end up being sorry, and he really doesn't want to feel like anything else is his fault today. "You don't…that's not what I meant. You don't understand."

"Oh _really?_" Suddenly Megamind is on his feet. "You think you're the only one who's ever felt that way? You think you're the only one who's ever felt alone? What is this, daytime television? You think you're _special?_"

"You've got that _fish_," Wayne snarls back. It's true, he knows it's true, _he knows_. Minion has always, _always_ been there for Megamind. Megamind has always been able to tell the fish everything, ask its advice about anything without fear that it will judge him or make fun of him or go tell someone else secrets that he'd really rather not be spread around. There was a time not so long ago that Wayne would have _killed_ to have that kind of friend.

He jumps down from the counter, looks Megamind in the eye and squares his shoulders. The nice thing about arguing with Megamind, he thinks, is that he won't have go into a lot of dumb explanations. "You're a genius," he spits. "You must have figured out that _my_ friends were all just a bunch of social climbers."

But Megamind doesn't back down. That's surprise number one. "Ohhhh, yes, let's talk about _Minion_," he hisses, stalking up to Wayne and actually _stabbing him in the chest with his finger_, which – in addition to being surprise number two – is something that has never happened to Wayne before and something that he doesn't really know what to do with. "_Minion_, who has never had a _choice!_ Minion, whose _job_ is to look after me! _Minion_, the professional _friend!_ Yes, let's talk about _Minion!_"

Wayne had forgotten about this side of Megamind – he's too used to seeing him just lie down and take whatever hand or blows he's dealt. But there have been a few times, haven't there, when Megamind has lost it and asserted himself? There had been the incident in their music class and that nasty episode in eleventh-grade history. And the flu-like bug that had attacked everyone in school but hadn't been contagious to the students' families – can't forget that one. Nobody had been able to prove anything, but Megamind had been the fastest to recover. He hadn't even missed school.

He had always acted with restraint – had always held himself back, had held in his reactions and bottled up his words and until finally he had exploded, and lashed out with all the pent-up fury his tiny body could hold. Angry Megamind is _not_ someone Wayne wants to deal with right now.

And anyway, he can't really hold onto his anger very well when he's this confused. He lets it go and holds up his hands, uncertainty winning out for the second time that day. "Okay, okay, okay. Little buddy. Calm down. I'm sorry."

"Don't be _sorry_," Megamind growls, but he does back off a little bit. _Of course_, Wayne realizes. _You were trying to push me. Like I was trying to push you_. "There's nothing to be _sorry_ for. But you don't hold exclusive rights to feeling alone or…self-pity, or whatever. And if you call Minion 'the fish' again, I will _cut_ you, I swear to god."

"Okay, all right, just calm down."

"I _am_ calm, I'm the _king_ of –" Megamind stops, stares into space for a moment, and then all of the angry tension falls out of him. He stands up straight and blinks a few times. "O-okay, hang on, no. _Coffee_. I need coffee. Where are your mugs?"

"I don't have mugs," Wayne says blankly, and Megamind rolls his eyes and grabs one of the graduated cylinders from the back of the stove. Wayne stays where he is and just watches as the blue man stalks over to the coffeemaker, pours the measuring instrument full, and dumps the contents down his throat in one gulp as if it were little more than a very tall shot.

_What's going on?_ He knows that Megamind tends to switch tacks more quickly than most people do, but he rarely stops in mid-sentence like that. This behavior is unusual even for Megamind.

"Lactose is your antidote," Megamind says over his shoulder as he pours a second glass. "Caffeine is mine." Wayne stares. It's a pretty big cylinder, and Megamind hadn't even _swallowed_. Just poured it straight , yes, down goes the second glass of coffee, the same way the first one had.

"Antidote to what?" Wayne asks, now completely baffled, and suddenly Megamind staggers.

"_Uhhhhgggh_." Megamind sways for a minute, then throws out his hands and leans heavily on the counter, lowering his head and shutting his eyes. "…Contact emotion. You're producing way too many pheromones, it's overpowering my usual medication and it's overloading my re-receptors. Okay, that was _way_ too hot, I need to sit down."

Megamind doesn't so much _sit_ as he sort of manages a controlled collapse, using the counter to ease himself down when his knees buckle. Then he curls his legs under him and hunches over, breathing hard. "Ow," he mutters.

Wayne takes a tentative step forward. He's never seen Megamind just fall down like that. "You okay?"

Megamind waves a hand, holding his head in the other. "I…I think so. Not sure." He winces. "Ah, okay, no. Probably not, but hang on. I'm sorry, by the way."

"It's cool," Wayne tells him. He really just wants to move on. "No worries."

"No it isn't," Megamind says flatly. "I blew up at you again. I'm sorry. I thought I had better control of myself than this. I guess I'm just bad at this whole empathy th-thing…_vae_." He lifts his head a little bit, his eyes flying open. "Help. Ice. I need ice."

Wayne frowns, certain he had misheard. Megamind doesn't ask for help. "What?"

Megamind sits bolt upright. "Ice," he says again, urgently, and looks up at Wayne – his pupils have contracted to little black dots in seas of emerald green, he's ghastly pale, and he's starting to hyperventilate.

Wayne isn't quite sure when or how he ended up on _his_ knees, but the next thing he knows he's got one hand on Megamind's back and the other in front of him, full of ice, and Megamind is alternating swallowing whole ice cubes and chewing them like they're candy.

"This isn't good," Wayne says, as Megamind pauses and gulps a few times, panting. "I'm going to get Roxanne."

"Vrrrr," Megamind says, and topples forward. His forehead lands smack in the middle of the ice in Wayne's palm.

Wayne jumps. _Holy smokes_."Megamind? You okay?"

"Cooooold," Megamind hums. "Cold is _good_."

"What's _wrong?_"

Megamind shifts a little, and Wayne realizes he's trying to push deeper into the ice. "_Sum iam calesces plus satis_," he mumbles.

"In English, please. We've been over this."

"Can't brain in English," Megamind mutters, slitting an eye open at Wayne and smirking.

Wayne swallows. That smirk looks _weak_. "Okay, I get that you're trying to be funny, but cut the crap and tell me what's wrong with you."

Megamind squeezes his eye closed again and frowns in concentration. "To brain temperature have down. Too hot, too fast. Can't regulate."

"Your word order is _way_ out of whack," Wayne laughs shakily. He switches to super speed, grabs the ice tray out of the freezer, and decelerates. "Gimme your hands."

The sudden loss of support almost sends Megamind sprawling. "But what—"

Wayne seizes Megamind's hands and shoves them into the ice tray. "This'll chill the veins in your wrists. It'll cool down more of your bloodstream than just by eating the stuff, I think, so your head will cool down faster."

"'Kay."

Wayne has another idea, then, and he takes a handful of ice and slaps it against the side of Megamind's neck, holds it in place. Megamind shivers and shudders a little, but otherwise doesn't respond. After a long moment, he starts to eat ice again.

Wayne stops him. "If you want to eat it, that's okay, but you keep your hands in there, got it? I'll help you." He registers, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he's using his Metro Man voice. It's second nature, after all; all he has to do pitch his tone just a little deeper than usual and put some extra emphasis on verbs and nouns, and hey-presto, instant Voice o' Jovial Comfort. Trouble is, that's never really worked on Megamind, whose signature Voice of Authority has always tended to override whatever Wayne says.

"This's demeaning," Megamind complains, but – miraculously – he opens his mouth anyway.

"Yeah, well, at least you're talking straight again. Can you tell me what just happened?"

"Not yet. Too hard."

_I'm sitting on my kitchen floor, hand-feeding ice to my ex-nemesis_. It would have been a funnier thought if it hadn't been followed with, _because I think he's having some kind of weird brain-temperature overload seizure_. Apparently, when Megamind's brain overheats, language is the first to go.

He wonders, briefly, if he should call Minion. And then he realizes that he has no idea how to do that. _Looks like it's just me_. At least he's doing something useful, now.

Finally Megamind sighs and relaxes. "Okay, I think I'm good. You can let go now."

Wayne looks at him. His pupils still seem like they're on thesmall side, and he's still pale. "You sure?"

"I'm sure."

Wayne lets go of him, and Megamind hastily tries to catch one of the ice cubes that goes skittering away across the tile when it falls out of Wayne's hand. He misses. He frowns and flexes his fingers a bit and leans carefully back the cabinets, folding his legs together in front of him.

Wayne starts to stand, but Megamind grabs his arm. "No," he says, "No. I'm fine now; you don't have to wake her up. Really. It was just too hot; my system couldn't take the sudden change in temperature, that's all it was."

"But now you're way too _cold_," Wayne argues, startling both of them by putting the back of his hand against Megamind's forehead. "You're not well."

"My body temperature is ninety-two point seven degrees Fahrenheit. That's completely normal." Megamind sniffs, then makes a face. "Is the water here clean? My mouth tastes _gross_. …Oh! Thank you."

Wayne laughs a little as he crouches and hands Megamind the glass. "Super-speed," he says. "Comes in handy sometimes."

Megamind sips at the water, his expression still contemplative. "Yes, I imagine that would be useful. You even put ice in here. Thanks." Then he looks up at Wayne out of narrowed eyes, a thin smile tweaking his lips to the side. "Hey."

"What?"

Megamind's smirk is back. "You were worried. About me."

Wayne snorts loudly and waves the assertion aside. "You freakin' _collapsed_. Of course I was a _little_ concerned, come on."

"Mmm," Megamind agrees. "Yes. Well, I couldn't really afford to spend any energy on something as trivial as standing after doing something that _stupid_."

He sounds _smug_, almost, and he looks like the cat that got into the cream. Wayne blinks and frowns a little. Maybe it's just that he's over-thinking everything, but…

"You _wouldn't_ do something that stupid," he says slowly.

Megamind raises an eyebrow and his smirk widens. "Oh?" he says. "Oh, wouldn't I?"

Wayne can't believe it. "You _knew_ that was going to happen?"

Megamind takes another drink of water, closing his eyes and shrugging hugely in a theatrical show of '_so what?_' "I was proving a point. You were worried."

"I was _worried_ because I thought you were going to die, or pass out, or something." Wayne shakes his head. "You're nuts, you know that?"

Megamind's eyes slide open. "What was that?"

Wayne blinks at him. "I…what? You're nuts?"

"No." Megamind gives him one of the long, slow stares that Wayne is beginning to recognize. "You said you were worried because you thought I was in trouble."

"Where are you going with this?"

Megamind rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "All right, I'll spell it out for you. And I'll use short, easy words so that you'll be sure and understand. If you suddenly up and collapsed on me, _I_ would be worried about _you_. I don't hate you. I'm not sure why you think I still do. And I'm really not sure where this is coming from! I mean, when Roxanne and I showed up the first time, you were _not_ this bad. And I get that you're in shock, but –" He stops suddenly and blinks a few times, and then a chagrined expression crawls onto his features and he starts laughing. "No, you know what? You know who you sound like? You sound like me, three months ago." He scrubs a hand over his face, shaking his head. "Oh, god," he groans, "I owe Roxanne the biggest apology _ever_."

Wayne stares at him. He's only heard about half of that; he's still stuck on the fact that Megamind had forced himself to overheat so badly that he hadn't been able to talk straight, just to prove a point. He'd had no guarantee at all that Wayne would help him. Wayne could have just left him there. They had been _angry _with each other; he could have just stormed off.

"But you wouldn't have," Megamind tells him, with another easy shrug. "I knew that."

Wayne aims a warning finger at him. "You're doing that mind-reading thing again."

"It's not a thing; you're just _obvious_," Megamind scoffs, and if that isn't the pot calling the kettle black, Wayne doesn't know what is. "But my point stands, so let's be clear, one last time. Look at me. No, keep looking. Eye contact. It's a good thing, gets the point across." He stares at Wayne, unblinking, and plants both hands flat on the floor and leans forward. "_I don't fucking hate you_. Okay? Do you copy? Do you understand what I am telling you? Can we _please_ just move _on_ now and stop _beating_ this dead _horse?_"

Megamind is unbelievably stubborn, and Wayne can already tell that he isn't going to back down. He gives up. "Yeah, I think I get you."

Megamind throws up his hands in sardonic relief and flings himself into a slouch in the same movement. "_Thank you_." He tries to sneer – he gets about halfway there, but it turns into a wide white smile and then he's beaming. You cannot fake that kind of enthusiasm; Wayne knows because he's tried and it has never worked. And before he knows what he's doing, he grins back, actually happy for the first time in what feels like months.

He's not allowed to be happy.

It brings everything sweeping back all at once – the fire and his parents, and Titan and all the news he's been trying to ignore, and the completely insane situation, and he flops backwards onto the floor and slams the back of his head purposefully into the tile, leaving a spider web of cracks like a halo around his head and making Megamind jump.

"_Agh_," he snarls. "What is _wrong_ with me? I shouldn't be sitting here chatting about old times and who hates who; I should be freaking out about Dad. I should be freaking out about _Mom_."

_There it is_. Megamind gets to his feet and points at Wayne. "Stay," he says firmly, and sets the oven to 'broil.' He then takes the bucket to the bathroom and dumps it into the toilet and flushes. Then he washes his hands and goes back to the kitchen and pulls open the fridge, takes out the dish he had put in there earlier. "How hungry are you?"

Wayne is still lying on the floor, one arm slung across his eyes, just focusing on breathing. "Very," he mumbles. Megamind nods and switches the oven's setting to 'bake.' He puts the dish in and closes the door, sets his mental timer for fifteen minutes.

"What are you doing?"

"Heating up the taco casserole Minion sent."

Wayne pulls his hands away from his face and sends Megamind a blank look. "The fffff…Minion sent me food?"

Megamind shrugs and takes a mop out of the corner closet, rinses out the bucket a few times with water and ammonia, and fills it with water. "We thought you wouldn't feel much like cooking, and Minion's taco casserole is pretty much the ultimate comfort food." He sets mop to floor with a delightful squelch and grins.

"Casserole," Wayne says dismally, and hides his face again. "Blech."

"Don't knock it 'til you try it," Megamind tells him. "He also sent salsa. Can you eat tomatoes?"

Wayne is quiet for a few seconds before saying, "Yes, I can eat tomatoes; they're pretty much the only fruit I _can_ eat. My father is dead."

He pauses, holds his breath. He's waiting to see if he feels anything. Megamind already knows that he won't. "It'll take time," he says quietly. "I told you, it'll take time. Don't push it."

"But I _should_ –"

"Wayne."

"I should, I should be _freaking out_. Why can't I just freak out and get it over with? I was freaking out _fine_ earlier, about all the wrong things. Why can't I freak out about the _right_ things now?"

"Wayne. Music Man. Shut up."

A harsh laugh tears out of Wayne's throat. "Music Man," he mutters. "What a joke. I can't sing, I never could. Mom could sing. Mom sang like you've never heard – she had voice training. You've never heard a purer alto. She wouldn't sing while Dad was abroad. Only when he was home. Father was a bass. I heard him sing a couple of times, he didn't like doing it, but he'd sing for Mom if she asked him. I heard them sing together once, and it was…they were." He looks up at the ceiling, studies it as if all the secret workings of the universe are written in the white expanse for him to read, if he could only see them. "They loved each other. They _loved_ each other. You don't know what it –" He pauses and glances over at Megamind, looks him up and down, then shuts his eyes and heaves a massive sigh. "You probably do know what that's like. You and Roxie are the same."

Megamind blinks again. _Is that a problem? _he wonders. "I'm…sorry?"

Wayne shakes his head. "No, don't be. It's nice, actually. Good to see that kind of partnership isn't…isn't abnormal. I was going to stop hoping, you know? Kept seeing all these couples with so many _problems_, they wouldn't just stop and _think_, they wouldn't just let themselves _be_ with each other – I kept hearing them _arguing_, all the time, just arguing and picking at each other and sniping. And I could never tell which group was bigger, the lovers or the haters. I never could. So I just wasn't going to bother."

"You know, we do argue sometimes," Megamind starts to say, but Wayne cuts him off. Megamind doesn't push it. The big man probably just needs to be allowed to lie there and ramble.

"But you still _get_ each other," Wayne tells him. "You always did. You know Roxie was the first real friend I ever had? She was the only one who ever bothered to try to see me. Not Metro Man. Not Metro Dude. She saw _me_. Like she sees you. And I don't mean," he adds quickly, "I don't mean I ever wanted to be anything more than friends with her. Don't think that, okay?"

Megamind had been trying very hard not to. "If you don't mind me asking, why not?"

"Not my type." Wayne shrugs a little.

"Not your…good gravy, Wayne, what's your type if Roxanne isn't it?" Megamind blurts out. "What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing _wrong_ with her," Wayne says. "Nothing at all wrong with her. Personality's great. Just not my _type_, you know?"

"Not really," Megamind answers. "But to each his own."

Wayne gives another of those short, humorless laughs. "God. I am a terrible son. I…Dad kept telling me about what all he'd do when he finally had grandkids, and all I could think was, _That's never gonna happen_. I mean, there's the obvious one, I'm not human and I really don't know if…if hybridization or whatever is even possible, but then there's marriage too, and I don't think I could ever…I'm pretty sure that's not in my cards either."

Megamind leans on the mop and frowns at him for a moment. "Why not? You just never met a girl who caught your fancy?"

Wayne laughs dully. "Hah. Yeah. Yeah, you could say that. I just…" he pauses, then lets out a quiet breath and shakes his head. "Nothing. _Fuck_. It's just…" he trails off again, and for a moment, Megamind thinks he isn't going to finish this sentence either. And then Wayne mutters, "I'm a paragon of virtue and justice; I don't do illegal things."

Well, _that_ makes no sense. "What, marriage? Why, because you're an alien? That's not illegal." Megamind wouldn't make that kind of claim if he didn't have something to back it up – he knows it's true because he has checked.

"No, _not_ because I'm an alien." Wayne appears to struggle for a few seconds, then just shakes his head. "Look, it's not important. The point is…I don't really have a point. I'm just a terrible son, that's all. I should be…I should be married, by now, and a father of two and…worrying about mortgage payments, or how to get little Johnny to soccer practice on time, or something, I don't know. I don't know. Just not…_this_. Not me. I'm all wrong."

Megamind frowns. "I don't think you're all wrong."

"I can't. I can't be – I can't be what my parents wanted me to be. I can't be that. Why can't I just _be_ that? I mean, Father is dead. Mom is…hurt. I should be that, for them. I should be what they wanted."

_Please disagree_, he isn't saying, and Megamind reads him loud and clear. So, "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," he says, and Wayne looks over at him with a kind of desperate, clenching hope in his grey eyes. Megamind ignores it and tries to sound as objectively emotionless as possible. "I mean, that's all we've ever done, isn't it? We only ever showed people what they wanted to see, until we became that. And we're finally starting to break free of it, and for me, it's great, because the only reason I wasn't _miserable_ was that I'd already given up all hope of ever getting what I wanted and learned to be happy with that a long, _long_ time ago. But it sucks for you, because you seemed really happy with your life up until now. But you have to be who you _are_."

"But I don't _know_ who I am, little buddy." Wayne groans and shakes his head, finally sitting up. "I just know who I'm not."

"Okay, then who _aren't_ you?"

Wayne makes an inarticulate grasping gesture. "I'm not the, the…suit-wearing, financier-by-day, hero-by-night my father wanted. I'm not _Superman_."

Megamind shrugs. "Then don't be that. Be a jeans-wearing country western singer if that's what you want. And if that doesn't work out, try blues. Or rock!" he exclaims, sudden excitement lighting his whole face as he grins at Wayne. "I would _pay_ to hear you cover AC/DC. If only because I think it would be tremendously funny."

Roxanne's voice from the doorway makes them both turn. "Why is Wayne covering AC/DC?"

"You're awake!" Megamind exclaims.

Roxanne yawns. She's leaning against the doorframe and blinking sleepily at both of them. "I'm vertical," she says. "I dunno about awake."

"There is a difference," Megamind agrees.

"Coffee's in the pot," Wayne offers, but Roxanne shakes her head.

"I don't like cold coffee."

"It's hot," Megamind tells her, and Roxanne blinks at him again and seems to wake up a little bit.

"Are you okay?" she asks. "You didn't drink it, did you?"

Megamind flushes and returns to his enthusiastic mopping. "He did," Wayne clarifies, over the noise of the squelching.

"Oh for…" Roxanne sends her boyfriend a despairing look. "Is that why you're mopping? Were you sick?"

"No!" Megamind exclaims, waving his hands frantically. The mop falls over with a clatter. "No, the two are completely unrelated."

"Well, that's good," Roxanne says, and stumps over to the coffee maker and pours herself a glass, then has to tear a few paper towels off the roll and fold them into a sort of pad so she can hold her drink without burning her hands. "What time is it?"

"Lunchtime," Megamind replies brightly, and opens the oven door. Then he pauses. "Uhm. Hot pads are…"

Wayne brushes him out of the way and simply pulls the dish out of the oven with his bare hands. "Hot pads?" he says. "We don't need no stinkin' hot pads."

Megamind gives him a stare that could shatter glass. "You do not get to make that reference unless you know which book –"

Wayne raises his eyebrows in surprise. "_The Treasure of the Sierra Madre_ was a book?"

Megamind grins. "'Badges, to god-damned hell with badges!'" he cries. "'We have no badges. In fact, we don't need badges. I don't have to show you any stinking badges, you god-damned _cabrón_ and _ching' tu madre!_ Come out from that shit-hole of yours. I have to speak to you.'"

Roxanne rolls her eyes. "You are such a nerd."

She had expected Megamind to say something like, _but you love me_, or, _you know you like it_, but instead he just looks at her. And it's one of those deer-in-the-headlights looks, one of the ones that say, _are we having a problem? Will this be an issue?_ He hasn't sent her one of those looks in weeks.

"But you're _my_ nerd," she says, and it's almost sad that Megamind relaxes so visibly.

"Eeurgh," says Wayne. "Get a room."

Megamind looks at him and opens his mouth, then thinks better of it, shakes his head, and addresses Roxanne. "So, did you have a good sleep?"

She nods. "Yeah, I did. Or I _would have_," she adds, glaring up at Wayne, "if _somebody_ hadn't kept _snoring_."

"That's a dirty lie," Wayne tells her. "I do not snore. I breathe."

"You breathe like a chainsaw."

"Your _mom_ breathes like a chainsaw."

"Your _face_ breathes like a chainsaw!"

"Your _mom's face_," Megamind shouts, before either of them can go any further. "Can this banter be any more inane?"

They both blink at him for a moment, and then shout, in unison, "_Your mom's face in bed!_"

Megamind groans and slumps forward. "I had to ask," he mutters.

Wayne gets to his feet. "I'm hungry," he says. "Is anyone else hungry?"

"Me," Roxanne says, eyeing the trio of plates on the counter. Megamind hands her one, and she peers at the warm mixture. "What is this? Did you make this?"

"Is the kitchen on fire?" Megamind returns, grinning. "No, Minion made it. It's taco casserole. There's salsa in the fridge – Wayne, you're closest, can you grab it before you come sit down? Oh, here." He hands Wayne the plate with the biggest pile on it as Roxanne digs in a drawer for utensils.

Wayne pauses on his way to the refrigerator. "About – Minion," he says slowly. "I didn't realize that calling him 'fish' was such an issue for you."

"It isn't an issue for me," Megamind tells him, and climbs up onto one of the four bar stools that surround the center island. "It's an issue for him."

Wayne frowns. "Really? Why?"

"How would you like it if I only ever called you 'the biped'?"

Wayne looks from Megamind to Roxanne and back again as he comes over and claims another bar stool. "But you call him '_minion_,'" he says, sounding confused. "Doesn't that bother him at all?"

"I don't 'call him minion.' Minion is his _name_."

"I know, but isn't that…I thought it was like naming someone 'Slave' or something. It's just incredibly rude, c'mon."

Roxanne shakes her head and hands them both forks. "Wayne, Minion is who and what he is. He is a minion, and he is Minion. That's really all there is to it. It's his name."

Megamind looks at Wayne. "You thought you were being polite?"

Wayne shrugs. "Well, polite-_er_, yeah. I didn't know it bothered him that much."

"I think it's an objectification thing," Roxanne tells him. "It's kind of how I would feel if you started calling me 'Woman.' It's like you're reducing him to just a fish, like that's all you see."

"Oh." Wayne frowns for a moment, then jumps and looks worriedly at Megamind. "Does it bother you, that I call you Blue? Is that okay? I don't mean anything by it."

Megamind grins and shakes his head. "'s fine. I've been Blue my whole life, I'm used to it."

"I don't want it to be okay just because you're used to it."

At that, Megamind turns and gives Wayne a long, searching look. Then he smiles. Not grins, not smirks; actually smiles, and Wayne is shocked to discover that there's a difference. "It's fine," Megamind tells him again. "You can call me Blue. You can call me Freak, if you want, I don't mind. It's fine."

Wayne stares at him, bewildered but still inexplicably pleased.

It's been a little over a year since that nasty business with the death ray, and Wayne has adjusted, for the most part, to what his life is like now. He doesn't _regret_ retiring, exactly; if he and Megamind had continued like they had been it never would have stopped and one of them might have really gotten hurt. But he has been regretting abandoning everyone. That hadn't been easy. In the beginning he had just been very stubborn, and then what he had been doing had actually _sunk in_, and since then Wayne has spent a lot of time alone with himself. He's spent a lot of time in introspection. Reading and thinking and trying to figure out who he is.

He thinks he has a pretty good idea of who he is, at this point. And he _likes_ who he is, which is actually kind of surprising. He really had _not_ liked who he had been.

Because the thing is – the thing is, throughout all of Wayne's long and heroic career, Megamind is the one person Wayne has never been able to fool. Megamind has always seen right through him, and Wayne had honestly loathed him for it until he had finally grown up and realized what he had been doing. Megamind had stood in the front of the class with his head up and his back straight and his green eyes flashing with undisguised hatred, and had told Wayne _to his face_ that he was an overhyped narcissist incapable of feeling anything for anyone but himself and that he had no soul. And he had been right. And it had _hurt_. And, until very recently, Wayne had been almost certain that that was how Megamind had still seen him.

Wayne is sitting in his kitchen with his best friend and the ex-nemesis he had been sure despised him with every fiber of his little blue being, the latter of whom seems to be taking 'sarcastic comfort' to a whole new level. He had hoped that Roxanne would be happy to learn he hadn't died, but never in his wildest dreams had he thought that _Megamind_ might share that sentiment.

"You know," Wayne says abruptly, and the other two look at him. "You know, little buddy. I'm really glad that sun beam thing of yours didn't work."

Megamind blinks at him, talks around a mouthful of food. "What, the death ray?" He swallows and tilts his head. "It worked fine."

Wayne shakes his head and tries again. "No, I mean, I'm glad it didn't kill me."

Megamind grins at him. "Oh," he says brightly. "Yes, so am I. Replacing you was impossible, honestly. You'd better not die anytime soon, either; I don't want to have to go through that again. Listen, can I ask you a question about the mayor? I've been trying to persuade him to let me make some modifications to the weather towers here, but we just don't see eye to eye on this and he is actually adamant about it, and I wanted to hear your thoughts and maybe you could give me some pointers about how to persuade him…"

Wayne only half-listens to what Megamind is saying. He had been going to say something like, _and I'm glad you and I are chill, now_, but whatever opportunity there had been has passed – and on second thought, Wayne is pretty sure Megamind already knows.


	9. Chapter 9

Home for breeeak! I dance the dance of the blissfully unemployed. (No, but seriously, do you need an accounting intern? Because if you do, I know where you can get a really good one. And she'll work for free.)

One thing I like about writing Megamind is that when he says, 'Solar system,' he means as opposed to the other star systems out there. Not just the solar system. It's…it's Solar versus solar. Crucial difference.

Chapter 9, in which a lot happens in a very short period of time. And, as always, if you find any errors let me know and I'll correct them. I tried to get everything, but I'm still trying to pin down the final timeline in my head and I worry that it shows, sometimes.

Sundown is mine. Everybody else (c) to DreamWorks. I don't own YouTube.

I hope everybody had/is having a lovely winter holiday! Here is a plate of non-denominational cookies. I'll just leave it here. Help yourself!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

Roxanne isn't totally sure what had happened while she had been asleep, but Megamind and Wayne seem to have reached more of an understanding with each other than they had before. Their conversation is lighter, for one thing – the tones of their voices, the pitches are different. As a reporter, Roxanne has become quite skilled at telling when people are comfortable; while the two men are not _completely_ at their ease, neither are they half as tense as they had been earlier. And Wayne seems to be in a better place emotionally, but Roxanne can't tell if that's because he's trying to maintain appearances in front of Megamind or if Megamind is distracting him and keeping his mind occupied.

Or both. It could very easily be both. Whatever the case may be, watching them talk is proving to be both interesting and entertaining, and Roxanne does her best to stay mostly quiet without tipping them off that she's observing them.

"So listen, I have to ask." Megamind puts down his fork and shifts on his stool so that his feet are braced against the top crossbars and he can put his elbows on his knees and lace his fingers together in front of his mouth. "_What_ is the deal with the random science crap all over your kitchen?"

Wayne grimaces. "I was sorta hoping you weren't going to ask that," he mutters.

"Well, if you don't want to tell me…"

"No, no, it's cool. I…it's crazy, I've mostly stopped doing it." Wayne rubs the back of his neck, something he only does when he's very uncomfortable. "I wanted to see if I could make stuff."

Megamind raises an eyebrow.

"Don't look at me like that," Wayne grumbles. "I'm not stupid. I'm _not_."

"Never said you were."

"Dumb jock," Wayne reminds him, and Megamind blinks.

He glances at Roxanne for help, but she just shrugs. Megamind rolls his eyes and turns back to Wayne. "You've called me a scrawny little nerd a couple of times, as I recall, and that's a fairly accurate description."

"Yeah, but I didn't – that wasn't. I mostly just said that to piss you off. You aren't scrawny."

Megamind laughs. "Wait, wait. Seriously? Oh boy. Okay, look at _you_," he points both hands fingers at the big ex-hero, then aims them back at his own chest, "and then look at _me_. Do you notice any kind of difference in size, there?"

Wayne scowls at him. "You are one condescending son of a gun, you know that?"

Megamind grins and makes a little bow. "You do remember who you're talking to, right?"

Wayne gives him a quiet look. His reply is much more serious than Megamind's had been. "You do remember that I'm not Metro Man, right?"

Megamind blinks and sits back a little as his smirk falls away. "Right. Sorry. I know you aren't stupid. Continue."

Roxanne's attention sharpens. _What was _that_ all about?_ she wonders. It had sounded like Wayne is a lot more defensive of his intelligence than she had thought.

Wayne shrugs and lets the matter drop. "Not much else to say. I used to have fun in science, and…I've had a lot of time on my hands, lately. They're just dumb projects, I mean I haven't ever really had a goal or anything…mostly it was me going, _I wonder if I can make this_."

Megamind doesn't say anything to that, just nods. "And the mold cultures in the fridge?"

"I was working on identifying them." Wayne colors. "But it was really boring, so I've just been putting it off for the past few weeks. I've sort of stopped with the biology stuff. Just not my thing, I guess." He heaves a sigh. "And before you ask, the thermite was just to see what would happen. Same with the bismuth and everything else."

"Huh." It's all Megamind can think of to say. "Well. I never thought you'd be into that kind of thing."

Neither had Roxanne. She's known Wayne for years, and he has never shown much of an interest in…well, anything. Except law. Wayne knows Michigan state law like the back of his hand, and a lot of their old conversations had been about current cases that he had some kind of connection with.

Of course, his job had required him to understand the legal system, so the fact that he could go back and forth with himself for hours about seemingly trivial clauses had never really surprised Roxanne. And it hadn't been boring – Wayne can explain the rationale behind even the most backwards-sounding tax regulations and make her laugh while doing so.

But…bismuth? Thermite? Where is this _coming_ from?

"It…I'm not really," Wayne admits, then sighs again and shakes his head. "Okay, look. After I quit, I had no idea what I was going to do with my life. I mean, being a hero was all I'd ever done, right? I had nothing to work with, nothing to go on – there was the whole music thing, but that wasn't…I didn't turn to that right away. I was still kind of rebelling about that. You know, old sore spot."

Roxanne blinks and glances at Megamind, but he's frowning at Wayne as if he doesn't understand what he means by 'rebelling' either.

"Anyway, I tried to think of somebody else who had started with nothing, like, maybe I could do something like that, you know? Except…except I was panicking, and I didn't know what I was doing, and I could only think of one person."

"Megamind," Roxanne murmurs.

Megamind looks over at her. "Yes?"

But Wayne is nodding. "Dumb as it sounds, yeah." And then, when the smaller alien turns an astonished gaze in his direction, he protests, "Well, c'mon! Who did you think I was gonna say? Who else would ever keep thermite under his sink?"

"I-I don't keep it under my sink," Megamind mumbles. Wayne misses the numb tone with which this is delivered, but Roxanne doesn't. "Minion won't let me do experiments in the kitchen."

Wayne snorts. "Yeah, well, I don't have a cool lab, like you. So I started making…I don't know, things that…well…" He's gradually turning red. Megamind can't stop staring. It's funny, he thinks, but he's never seen Wayne look this embarrassed before. "I…made a laser." He glances at Megamind, then scowls, red all the way to his ears. "What? Stop _looking_ at me like that."

Megamind's eyebrows crawl higher. "You made a _laser?_" he squeaks.

"Yeah. It could light matches. But there wasn't any _point_, I mean, I didn't invent it or anything. I was just following how-to videos on YouTube…so I eventually gave up on that, too. Mostly I was really, really bored and didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. I just, I just wanted to see if I could _make_ something." Wayne sounds defensive, and Roxanne doesn't blame him. She's only seen Megamind look like he does right now once before: last night, when he had been so weirdly enthusiastic about the things _she_ had been making.

"Can I see it?" Megamind wants to know, in the same dumbfounded tone as before.

Wayne blinks. "Uh…sure. I guess. Hang on. I'll. I'll go get it." He lifts off from his seat and drifts out of the room. He rarely forgets to land; the fact that his feet never touch tile is a sure sign that he's unsettled.

Roxanne leans forward and touches Megamind's wrist. "What's going on?" she whispers. "He did all this because he was _bored?_ Mold cultures, thermite? I've _seen_ him bored and he's _never_ done this before. And I'm with him; I don't really get why you're so happy about it."

Megamind turns to look at her with shining eyes. His whole face has lifted into a mask of startled joy. "Roxanne, he did all of this because _I_ do all of this. And I don't think I can articulate any more than that without sounding like a mad fan, so I hope you can understand what that _means_ to me. That _he_ tried to imitate _me_." He chews his lip for a moment, and then a shred of worry creeps onto his face. "Also, before he comes back – between you and me, I think I might actually have more self-esteem than he does, and that's just _disturbing_."

Roxanne shoots a glance at the doorway, but there's no sign of Wayne. "Intellectually-speaking, I think you're right. Some of what he said to me earlier…it was like, nobody's ever told him he was smart, not so that he believed them. It sounded like…" She pauses for a moment, trying to find the right words. She's been learning to express herself more precisely, since she started dating Megamind. "Like the intellectual validation he's received has always been based more on favoritism and his social standing than on the merit and quality of his work. Would you say that's right, or was he just reading too much into it?"

"It amazes me sometimes, just how much of our personalities is based on the impressions we're given when we're young." Megamind frowns for a moment, looking intently thoughtful, before glancing back up at her. "But, unfortunately, I think I have to agree; I think that's accurate." His eyes narrow in sudden confusion. "But that doesn't mean he's _unintelligent_."

"Just that he doesn't _know_ if he is," Roxanne points out, and Megamind's expression clears.

"Ah, okay." He nods. "_That_ explains the apparent lack of confidence – it's _me_, isn't it? It's just that he's talking to _me_."

Roxanne shrugs. "Well, you're the one he's based his life around."

Megamind lets out a quiet little groan. "I _really_ hope I'm not his standard for intelligence. That is completely unrealistic."

"Oh, like your insecurities about your physical stature don't have anything to do with him."

Megamind sighs. "Point taken."

A sudden thought occurs to Roxanne, and she inhales sharply and leans forward again. "When he comes back in, you _have_ to be honest about whatever contraption he's got. You _can't_ do whatever that was when we came here last time with the singing thing."

Megamind blinks once, honestly taken aback. "What singing thing?"

Roxanne sends him a look. "It was horrible and you know it."

"Oh, that. I wasn't lying, you know." Megamind shakes his head, and it's Roxanne's turn to blink. "His _voice_ was bad, yeah, but the song was fine. He's always had talent musically – no skill, I don't think he ever took lessons, I don't know why – but he's a solid musician, I'll give him that."

"Found it!" Wayne calls from down the hall. He comes padding back into the kitchen a few seconds later, a small silver flashlight in his hand. "I don't know if it'll still work, but I changed the batteries."

Megamind grins at him. "If you ever go into villainy, there's a phrase you'd do well to remember."

Wayne blinks, grins uncertainly. "And that would be?"

"'Worth a shot.'" Megamind laughs and holds out his hand. "May I?"

Wayne shrugs and hands him the flashlight, looking entirely too nonchalant. "It's not very good."

Megamind snorts and turns it on, studies the narrow beam of red light. "Well, it hasn't blown up, which means it's loads better than _my_ first laser. What did you use?"

"Uh…a diode I took out of an old DVD burner and a flashlight. Yours exploded?"

"_Smithereens_," Megamind says fervently, as he hands the makeshift laser back to Wayne. "You should have seen the debris."

"Weird," Wayne mutters. "I don't think this thing _can_ explode."

"Mine was…" Megamind trails off, looking for a word, settles on, "bigger?"

Wayne can't help but grin, at that. "What did _you_ use?"

"I diode I took out of a satellite and my binky."

Roxanne starts to laugh. She can't help it. "Wait, _what?_ Your _what?_"

"You know." Megamind scowls as color blooms on his cheeks. "A pacifier. Something parents give their son as a small comfort when he goes zooming off into space. Mine had…well, it was a combination pacifier and fuel cell for the pod, and I wasn't sure what kind of accommodations Earth could provide, so I cut as much power as possible when we hit the Solar system. Relied mostly on augmented gravitational pull to bring us in."

Roxanne stares at him. "You weren't sure…just how old were you? I thought you were just…"

"Eight days," Wayne says, and Megamind looks up at him. He's thinking again, thinking hard; he always is when he goes quiet and still like that. "We were eight days old."

Megamind's gaze sharpens momentarily, and then his features relax into a smile. "As far as we know. You might be older than I am."

"It doesn't really matter." Wayne shrugs. "Here we are anyway."

Roxanne clears her throat. "Are you familiar with chaos theory? The butterfly effect?" They both look at her. "You know. Multiple universes, each one slightly different than the one before it because the decisions made were different?"

Wayne nods.

Roxanne takes a deep breath and looks down at her hands, where she's toying aimlessly with a fork. She isn't really sure how to phrase what she wants to say, but she's going to try. It's important. She doesn't know why. "I have this…idea. I think that everybody has some single event, or moment, in their past that defines who they are. It can happen at any time, for any reason, and it can be anything. But everybody has one. Something that happened to them, or that they heard, or that they said, that stuck with them for some reason. And I think, I think if you can _find_ that moment, if you can figure out what it is, you can learn a lot about yourself. And I think you can have more than one – if who you are changes, if the way you look at the world shifts – but they all trace back to the first one."

She looks up at Wayne and Megamind. "Do you know what I'm talking about? Is this making sense?"

Wayne nods. Megamind's face has closed off as it so rarely does, and he isn't looking at her. It's affirmation enough.

"Okay," Roxanne says. "Okay. I'm not going to ask what it is. It's not my business and it's probably pretty private. But what if your moment was different? What if it hadn't happened, what if your worldview had never changed? Or what if…what if one of the secondary moments hadn't happened?" She glances back and forth between them. Wayne is frowning in thoughtful silence, Megamind's brow is deeply furrowed. "Would we still be here, now?"

"It's impossible to say." Megamind still doesn't look up. "But I don't think we would. It depends on the universe. Depends on the moment."

"I guess it's always possible that we would be," Wayne says. "But I don't think it's very likely, no."

Roxanne nods. "Okay. If you had a choice, if you could go back and change your moment, or one of them, if you have more than one. Would you do it?"

She's honestly curious, and a little apprehensive as well. She knows there are things in _her_ life that she has wanted to change – decisions she sometimes wishes she had made differently – but she knows that if the opportunity to change them arose, she wouldn't take it. But she has learned things about Megamind's and Minion's lives that have made her want to hold onto them and never let go, and she's known for a long time that Wayne has secrets of his own and that the content, happy smile he had worn for everyone in Metro City wasn't totally genuine.

And Wayne answers first, which surprises her. She had thought Megamind would think fastest and answer soonest.

"You can't ask me that," he says. "I…it's too hard. There's too much riding on it. Not just for me."

Megamind laughs suddenly, and the other two look at him in surprise. "See, I'm biased. I already _know_ it wouldn't work, and I know how devastating it would be even if it _did_. I told you, the reset button wouldn't work, the science is impossible – you'd have to rewrite reality. Not just the universe," he adds sharply, glancing at Roxanne for half a second and then away again, "reality itself. You'd have to collapse all parallel universes that stemmed from the point you were trying to return to, which would erase everything and everyone in them. It would be murder, and I don't kill people." He takes a deep breath. "So, no. I wouldn't change anything."

His face cracks into a crooked smile as he reaches for his water glass. "It's been a rough road, and it'll probably get a little rougher before the end. But…" He lifts the glass into the air, and Wayne follows suit on reflex – Roxanne blinks, then hurriedly raises hers as well. "Wayne, here's to your dad. I didn't know him, but Roxanne says he was a good man. And here's to your mother's health. I'll do anything I can for her; I haven't really tried my hand at medicine yet, but if I can help, I will.

"And here's to the future," he finishes. "Everything's changing, but we'll still be standing when the dust settles. It'll be hard, but we'll make it through."

They drink, and the conversation turns to lighter subjects.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

When Megamind returns to the Lair that evening, he's alone. Minion meets him at the door. "Where's Miss Ritchi?"

Megamind shakes his head. "She's staying with Wayne tonight." For a moment, he looks as if he might say more, but then he closes his mouth again and steps into the Lair and closes the door after him, locks it. Slumps against it. The lines around his mouth are more defined than they usually are.

"Sir, you look exhausted," Minion says, but Megamind rouses himself and shakes his head again.

"I'm not sleepy. Just tired." He heaves a sigh. "I need to destroy something," he murmurs, then huffs a laugh.

Minion raises an eyebrow and follows him into the big workroom. "Bad day?"

Megamind stands next to his drawing board, head down, eyes distant. Finally he shrugs. "Not really. I just. We." He stares into space for a moment, then frowns up at Minion. "Do you…does it bother you? I mean, everything's changing. Do you mind it, any of it? Roxanne being here as much as she is? I know I haven't really been myself, these past few months – we haven't done anything together recently, not just us. You and me, I mean."

Minion, privately, thinks that Megamind has been more himself lately than he has been since they were very young. "Actually, Sir, I was wondering when you were going to ask her to move in with us."

Megamind smiles a crooked smile and drops into his chair. "Soon, I hope, but I wanted to talk to you about it first. You haven't said anything about being bothered, but you never do. I worry I've been neglecting you."

Minion blinks a few times. Megamind rarely asks for his input, and still more rarely in so sincere a tone. He genuinely seems _concerned_. "Well, Sir…it's been interesting. I won't say I haven't had _any_ problems adjusting, but I've had an easier time of it than you, I think. I like Miss Ritchi. I always have, you know. She's nice. Remember when she saw me for the first time?"

Megamind tilts his head.

"She said 'hi.' To _me_. None of your other kidnappees did that. And she thanked me."

Megamind frowns. "I don't think I was there for that."

"The eighth time we kidnapped her. Remember? I went alone. And I brought her in over my shoulder like always, but she said that her ribs hurt and could I please hold her differently, and when I did she said thank you. I tied her differently in the chair that time, too, and she _noticed_." Minion shifts his weight, looking uncomfortable. "Sir, I don't know…and maybe it's just that I haven't had much contact with anybody else since we left the prison, but other than you, she was the first to treat me like a _person_. Instead of just a fish in a bowl."

Megamind winces. "Some of that is my fault, you know. I made them think you were just a pet."

"To protect me, yes. And with good reason. I've never held that against you." Minion sighs and crouches, puts one massive hand on Megamind's knee and the other under his friend's chin, brings Megamind's head up so that he has to look Minion in the eye. "Sir, I like her. She's my friend. Frankly, I think she needs a minion almost as much as you do. And she makes you happy, which is all I've ever really cared about."

Megamind still looks uncertain. "But…"

"What's more, she makes _me_ happy, and that is more than I think either of us has ever dared hope for."

Megamind pulls his chin out of Minion's hand and rubs at his eyes. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure," Minion nods. "I think she's great. Pushy, sometimes, but overall she's great."

"I'm so happy you two get along," Megamind mutters. "It makes my life so much easier."

Minion laughs. "Well, even if we didn't, I'm not the sort to give you a 'her or me' ultimatum."

Megamind looks at him. "Minion," he says, and Minion blinks. As hyperactive as Megamind usually is, that's how hard he can focus when he wants to, and right now Minion is suffering the full blast of that intense gaze.

"It would be you. Every time."

Well, there are a million ways to respond to _that_, but Minion is momentarily stunned and uses none of them. He knows, of course. He would never doubt Megamind. The desperate clenching of the strong fingers that had twisted in the fur of his shoulder as he had escorted Megamind out of the prison had erased whatever lingering doubts he might have had. But _saying_ things like that just isn't Megamind's style.

Then Megamind spins away in his chair, and Minion is freed from the obligation of having to say anything. He straightens slowly, feeling the whir and hiss of valves and hydraulic pumps all through his robotic body.

"Minion, do we have enough parts to make another watch?"

Minion shakes off his shock and forces a quick mental inventory. "I think so. Why?"

"Good. I think I'll make one for Wayne. So that he can get out more, you know? Which reminds me, I want to make a few modifications to yours, too. I would just make you a new one and turn your old one into a watch, but…" He glances back over his shoulder, grimacing.

"But mine is already fitted to my spatiokinetic signature," Minion finishes, "and neither of us wants to go through the hassle of fitting a new one."

Megamind looks absurdly relieved as he turns away. "Precisely."

"Sir, if you don't mind my asking, where are you going to get the scans?"

At that, Megamind spins in his chair again, seizing his lower lip between his teeth. "I had an _idea_," he says, rubbing his hands together, and good lord, he looks _just_ like his old, villainous self. "We already know we can't build overlays from scratch, not so that they'll stand up to close scrutiny. But what if we merged a lot of _real_ overlays into a new one? Scanned a lot of people and then mashed their images together into one completely unrecognizable amalgamation?"

"We could use our Metro Man scan as a base," Minion says slowly, and Megamind stops making mashing motions with his hands and looks up, wide-eyed. "It would take care of the need for too many visual-spatial calibrations."

Megamind's whole face lights up. "Yes!"

"And I'm _sure_ we have enough footage of him to take care of most of the spatiokinetic calibrations as well." Minion grins at his friend. "Then you could just _give_ it to him. We could even program it to take care of the rest of the calibrations on its own, as he moves. Automatic updates, I mean, or something like that."

Megamind hums in agreement, tapping one long finger against his lips in thought. "Mmm. I'm sure he wouldn't _mind_ flailing around a bit for the sake of calibration, but flailing madly is more my thing than his, yes…"

Minion is beginning to smile. "So, no sleep tonight, Sir?" he asks, and Megamind bursts into a storm of laughter.

"Gather the parts, Minion. We have _work_ to do!"

And away they go, just like old times, just like clockwork. Minion hurries away to the shelves, digging through piles of spare parts and opening labeled canisters – remnants of Megamind's ill-fated attempt to organize his chaos. Megamind pulls out the original designs for the watch and thumbs through them, frowning. Minion can assemble a third disguise generator without too much difficulty, and Megamind will work on the new programming. But what about collecting the various scans they'll need?

He frowns harder. He wants to get this done _soon_. Megamind may be good at waiting, but he has never been patient. He doesn't _like_ waiting.

Especially when he doesn't have to. He turns in his chair. "Nibs!" he calls, and the brainbot comes flying into the room a few seconds later. Megamind unstraps his watch and holds it out. "I need you to go around town and scan as many men as you can. Age range, late-twenties to mid-thirties. No fewer than fifty scans, preferably a lot more. And try not to be seen. And I need you back in…five hours. Can you manage that?"

_Thaum_, says Nibs, taking the watch from Megamind with a careful claw. SHOULDN'T BE A PROBLEM.

"Oh – sorry, I should show you how it works –"

NO NEED, Nibs blinks. I KNOW HOW IT WORKS.

A confused smile finds its way onto Megamind's face. "How could you _possibly_ know that?"

YOU GAVE ALL BRAINBOTS ACCESS TO YOUR BACKUP FILES LAST MONTH. I READ THE BLUEPRINTS; I KNOW HOW IT WORKS.

Megamind blinks back at Nibs, utterly startled for once in his life – and not just because Nibs knows the Morse code for semicolons. "What? No, I didn't."

I WILL RUN YOU A REPORT, IF YOU WANT. THIRTY SECONDS.

"Y-yes, that would be good."

BE RIGHT BACK.

Nibs flies off, and sure enough, thirty seconds later it's back with the printout. Megamind scans over the sheet of paper, muttering under his breath. "User alpha-ten, phi-twelve, seven four nine two four. Authorization to Override Security Lock 13." He lowers the page. "Huh. I guess – I guess I forgot. Thank you, Nibs, that will be all."

He stares at the printout for a few minutes after Nibs leaves, trying to remember when he had given the brainbots that authorization. It's _his_ user code, after all. A10-P12-74924. Even Minion doesn't know it – Minion has his own code – so Megamind himself _must_ have issued the order. The trouble is, he honestly doesn't remember doing it.

Why doesn't he remember? If he were human, if he were normal, this wouldn't be so unsettling, but Megamind _isn't_ normal. He doesn't forget _anything_.

Or, at least, he has always _thought_ he doesn't. But the evidence to the contrary is staring him in the face. He swallows and shakes his head a few times. Well, so he has forgotten something. There's a first time for everything, isn't there? It isn't important. The watch, on the other hand, _is_ important. Megamind tries to force his missing memory out of his mind and turn his attention to more pressing matters.

Eventually Minion comes back with a beautiful new titanium chassis, and starts work on the updated design of the display – the new disguise generator can't look like Megamind's watch; it has to be something Wayne would wear, it has to be _classy_. Megamind finishes the auto-update programming, which is a completely new venture. Ordinarily he doesn't trust anything automatic (ATMs, especially. Megamind knows exactly how traitorous _they_ are), but this is for a good cause and there's no real harm that can follow since the watch isn't going to be linked into Megamind's private network. Then Nibs returns with the new scans, and Megamind is able to really focus on something else.

But the prickling sensation on the back of his neck doesn't go away for quite some time. Not until distraction comes in the form of Roxanne returning with blood on her shoes and her coat.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The cabbie isn't Akos, and Roxanne asks to be let out at Giorgio's Patisserie, close to the edge of the warehouse district. She doesn't want any more people than necessary knowing how much time she spends hanging out around the warehouses. Besides, it's a beautiful morning for a walk, bright and cold with a light dusting of snow on the ground, and Roxanne can use the time to think.

_My life_, she thinks, _has gotten very weird in the past year and a half_.

Lately she's been thinking, wondering what her life might have looked like if she had never met Megamind. The ease with which she has adjusted to their relationship is kind of unnerving for her; learning how to work with her previous boyfriends had always been at least a _little_ bit of a hassle – their schedules, their moods, their likes and dislikes, how to get them to leave her alone without making them feel too bad about it. It had all been _work_. To be fair, they had been _worth_ the effort, for the most part, but being alone had always been easiest for Roxanne.

She hasn't told Megamind that. It would only make him worry, and besides, there's no reason to. Life with Megamind is _easy_, almost frighteningly so.

Maybe it's because the two of them had already come to know each other fairly well, thanks to years of almost-weekly kidnappings, but Roxanne is _comfortable_ with Megamind. She had been comfortable with Peter, too, but only as friends. As his girlfriend, she had always been on edge, tense, wondering if she was doing okay or messing up horribly. Megamind and Minion aren't like that; they _tell_ her when she messes up. That had been a surprise, initially, because Megamind had been so wary of offending her, but after that nasty incident with the 3-D projectors he had opened up a lot and started voicing his concerns. And even when Megamind still can't bring himself to say something, Minion will pull Roxanne aside and say it for him.

She turns down a side street on her usual shortcut to the Lair, hiking her purse higher onto her shoulder and before shoving her hands in her pockets and tucking her chin down into her scarf. She frowns down at the road in front of her boots, listens to the crunch of snow between heel and pavement.

Sometimes, when she looks at Megamind, she tries to picture him as a villain again. Remembers him dancing around the Lair, cackling maniacally, showing off his newest creations, kidnapping her, threatening her with flamethrowers and knives and laser cannons of various sizes, all of which could have killed her if he hadn't been careful. Sometimes she tries to picture that Megamind side-by-side with the she wakes up next to four or five mornings a week, and she's surprised at how _difficult_ it is. It's like they're two completely different people.

And then sometimes he smiles that sharp, bright smile over his shoulder, and Roxanne hears him saying, "_Ready the death ray, Minion!_" in her mind, and she remembers that they _aren't_ two different people.

She had never thought, never _once_ considered, that Megamind might be as different from his stage persona as Wayne had always been. And when she thinks about how often Megamind has surprised her, she's disappointed in herself. She had judged him just as quickly as the rest of Metro City – judged him, and found him lacking. Immature, flighty, shallow, careless. If someone had come to her five years ago and told her that someday she would be dating Megamind and actually _falling in love with him_, that she would be _happy_ with him, she never would have believed it.

But here she is, walking an entirely too-familiar path to Megamind's Evil Lair. She doesn't even think about the fact that she's walking through the warehouse district anymore, which she realizes later is her first mistake. Her second mistake is that her can of mace is in her purse, and not her pocket.

There are two of them, and they are such generic thugs that, if not for the very real danger of the situation, Roxanne might have laughed. One short fat one, one tall thin one. Both with gloves with scorched-off index fingers, both with ratty scarves, both squinty and leering and red-eared from the cold.

And they introduce themselves as Horace and Jasper. "Really?" Roxanne can't help asking as they back her towards the wall. She glances up and down the alley they've pulled her into, seeking a way out, but it's a dead end – there's a van parked at the far end, and Dumb and Dumber are blocking the only entrance. "_101 Dalmations_? You _really_ couldn't come up with better code names?"

Horace shrugs. "That's irrelevant," he says, and cocks his gun. Jasper rolls his eyes – a quick check tells Roxanne that his gun is already cocked. "We have our orders. Are you, or are you not, Roxanne Ritchi?"

"Oh _come on_," Jasper snarls. "She _obviously_ is. Not exactly low-profile. Looks just like her photo. Probably has wads of cash on hand. Your money or your life," he tells Roxanne.

"You were ordered to rob me specifically?" Roxanne's eyes narrow. "That doesn't sound right."

"Again," Horace says nastily, "irrelevant. I'll need to see some photo ID."

"Who the hell _are_ you guys?" Roxanne demands, and Jasper slams a hand into the wall beside her head, making her jump. Okay, _that_ isn't good. And when he leans in, brings his face close, shoves the barrel of his pistol into her sternum, that _definitely_ isn't good. Roxanne tries not to shrink away.

"We're the guys who are giving you a lift to a nice warm room without any windows," he says flatly. The chill that starts to crawl up Roxanne's spine freezes in its tracks when he stumbles forward, cracking their foreheads together. "Nnagh!"

He staggers, clawing at the silver spike that has appeared like magic in the middle of his chest. Horace yells and grabs his shoulder, pulls him back, and then collapses like a marionette with its strings cut. A similar bolt protrudes messily from his forehead. Roxanne and Jasper stare down at him in shock. Then Jasper rocks forward, screaming, when a second silver bolt appears nest to the first.

The shadow that drops down behind him slams the butt of the biggest crossbow Roxanne has ever seen across the top of his head, and he goes down without another sound. The alley is suddenly, blissfully silent.

The man with the bow gazes at Roxanne. He's tall and very slim, and his pale eyes are flat and cold under heavy brows. His hair sticks out in all directions, a tangled mess of matted yellowish-red curls. Every neuron in Roxanne's brain is firing like crazy, screaming for her to run, but all she can do is stand where she is and stare into those flat eyes. They're so bright. There isn't much light in the alley, but the stranger's eyes are incredibly bright.

"You're that reporter," says the stranger. He speaks out of one side of his mouth; there's a toothpick stuck in the other side that bounces as he talks. It gives him a sneering, lopsided air, but he sounds as if he's simply making an observation.

Roxanne finds her voice. It's faint. "Y-yes, that's me."

"Wasn't a question." Without warning, the man drops to a crouch and pulls the crossbow bolts out of the first goon's chest. A spurt of blood hits him in the face, but he doesn't even flinch – he just wipes the arrows on his jeans and fits one of them back into the bow, slides the other into his quiver. The skin on his hands is a tangle of scars, especially on his knuckles. "Tell Mente my debt's not changed next time you see him. He'll understand."

"Mente?" Roxanne echoes faintly, and a flat eye glances up at her. His ears have been cut, she realizes, and her stomach turns over. His ears have been _cut_. The tops are squared off.

"…Megamind," the stranger clarifies after a long pause.

"Oh! Yes, right, of course, and who should I say is…"

"Got a light?"

Roxanne fumbles in her purse for a lighter and holds it out to the stranger. She doesn't smoke, but she is dating an ex-supervillain, and there are things she's learned to keep with her. "S-sure, here."

"Much obliged." The man lights his cigarette, takes a drag, tosses her the lighter. His toothpick stays where it is.

"Well, it's, it's the least I can do," Roxanne stammers. "You probably just saved my life."

"Tch," the stranger says, and waves a lazy hand at her. Blood drips from the end of his crooked nose onto his flannel shirt. "Didn' do it for you. Did it 'cause these bozos're the scum of the earth and I don't like them." He reaches down, removes the other bolt from the second man's head. It makes an awful slunching noise as it comes free, and he has to flick a shard of bone away before putting it back in his hip quiver. Roxanne thinks she might be sick.

"Anyway," he says, and stands. Good _lord_, he's tall. She can't look away from his eyes, so pale under that tangled mane of hair. "Tell Mente I said hey, yeah?" Quick as blinking, he puts a hand on Roxanne's waist and pulls her close, kisses her cheek. Roxanne smells blood and cinnamon on his breath. No tobacco. That's weird. …_It's weird that I think that's weird, after everything that just happened, the fact that he smells like cinnamon is what's weird?_ "You take care, now, pretty lady."

And then he turns and saunters off into the shadows, leaving Roxanne standing over two dead bodies in an alley and wondering what the hell just happened, trying not to panic.

Home. Have to get home, have to get home, have to get home. She wants to run there, but she can barely move her legs. Those _eyes_…she starts counting, first in her mind, then out loud as she walks. Counting helps.

She turns the corner, sees the wall of graffiti of the Lair, walks toward it, the blood pounding. Lets herself in, forgets to close the door behind her.

Megamind is at the worktable Roxanne had built, springs and screws and wires and bits of metal scattered over the table willy-nilly, focused with laser intensity on something small in front of him, long fingers twirling a screwdriver.

"I met a guy in an alley today," she says faintly. "He said to tell you hello."

Megamind is really only half-listening and doesn't look up. "Oh yes? What'd he look like?"

"He shot them," Roxanne says, and her voice sounds like it's coming from far away. She's dimly aware that she's starting to shake. "His hair was _everywhere_. He shot them. He shot them and then he kissed me. They – they had, they were going to, to, but then he shot them and there was blood everywhere and his eyes were so _bright_."

Megamind is suddenly in front of her, his hands gripping her shoulders, and Roxanne gasps and tries to jump back. "Roxanne? Roxanne, oh my god, are you okay?"

"_Don't touch me! Get away!_" Roxanne stumbles away, jerks her shoulders out of his grasp, shoving at him.

"Roxanne!" he protests, but he doesn't try to touch her again. Her arms are up, shielding her face, warding him off. "Okay," Megamind says hastily, "okay, love, I won't. I won't, okay? He kissed you, did he, did he do anything else?"

"No." Roxanne shakes her head hard, and Megamind's knees go weak with relief. "I'm _sorry_, I didn't want him to, he just sort of _did_, and I couldn't stop him. It wasn't even _romantic_. Like a way to say goodbye. He _killed_ them. And his ears. His _ears_. And he killed them, he _shot_ them."

"Who are they?"

"I…I don't know. A couple of random guys." Roxanne hugs herself, shivering. Megamind carefully steps closer.

"I'm going to give you a hug, all right?"

"Yes, sure, whatever you want."

He steps closer and wraps his arms around her, holding her tightly. She stiffens. "It's okay," he says. "It's okay, I've got you, you're safe now, you're here with me. It's okay."

Megamind smells like leather and engine oil. No blood. No cinnamon. And no cologne. Roxanne shudders. "Who uses a crossbow these days, anyway," she mumbles.

Megamind goes rigid. "What?"

Roxanne has heard that tone before, soft and deadly. Her first instinct is to run, but she fights it. _Megamind isn't like that_, she tells her brain angrily. _It's just the circumstances. You're weak and triggery right now. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up_. "Crossbow?" she asks.

"This man, did he have a toothpick in his mouth?"

Roxanne nods, and Megamind's hands clench into fists against her. Roxanne doesn't scream. She never screams, not anymore. "Sundown," Megamind whispers, and lets out a long, slow breath. "Thank god. I'm so glad you're okay." He moves a hand to cup the back of Roxanne's head, and she can't help it: she lets out a tiny, frightened whimper.

Very slowly, Megamind pulls back and looks at her. Her eyes are closed, and she's flinching. Her breathing is shallow. "Roxanne, you're…are you scared of _me?_"

She bites her lip and shakes her head frantically. "Of course not, no, don't be stupid. I'm just…it's stupid, I'm so…hang on, okay? Okay?"

He releases her, and Roxanne backs hastily away from him almost immediately, her eyes still closed, her arms coming up again as if to shield herself from an assailant. Megamind feels sick. What's going on? Roxanne has never been _afraid_ of him. Not that he's seen, anyway. "Roxanne?"

"Just don't touch me. I'll be fine. Don't touch me. I'll be fine."

Stung and bewildered, Megamind nods.

A moment later, Roxanne begins to count slowly under her breath. She makes it nearly to two hundred before she's finally able to get her breathing under control and look up at her boyfriend, who is still standing away from her with worry written all over his smooth blue face. "Sorry," Roxanne whispers, as the past exchange comes flooding back. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."

Megamind's green eyes are wide. "Roxanne, _please_. What happened? What's wrong?"

"It's, I have. I have just a little bit of baggage," she says. "I…it. I thought I was over it but…today just, and yesterday, and I'm just an emotional wreck right now what with the Scotts and the kidnapping and Wayne and everything…and then you with the sort of but not freaking out, I'm so _sorry_, Megamind."

He hesitates. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Honestly?" Roxanne bites her lip. "No. I will if you want me to."

Megamind shakes his head. "I don't want you to tell me anything you don't want to," he says firmly, never mind that he's confused and trying very hard not to take anything personally. Roxanne looks at him. "But can you at least tell me what I did wrong, so that I don't do it again?"

"I just…I get head-shy, sometimes," she replies after a pause. "When I'm freaking out."

There's a lot that she isn't telling him, but he doesn't ask – now is not the time. "I see. And you never told me about it, why, exactly?"

"I know, I know I should have told you." She shuts her eyes and scrubs her knuckles on her forehead. "I'm sorry."

"Stop _apologizing_," he tells her. "It's okay. I just want to know."

Roxanne scowls down at the floor. "Because I thought it shouldn't matter. I thought I was over it. Apparently I was wrong, and I really am sorry about that. I should have known. I should have realized."

Megamind puts two fingers under her chin and pulls her up to face him, then scowls back. "If you apologize again, I will _bite_ you, I swear I will. Grarr." He clicks his teeth together twice in a chomping motion, and Roxanne smiles a little.

"Okay."

He glances away, then back. He looks suddenly nervous. "Would…would a hug help? Or would it be a bad thing?"

Roxanne answers by lunging forward and pulling him into what is possibly the tightest hug he's ever received. He reciprocates gladly, clinging to her with all his strength until she mumbles something into his shoulder.

"What?"

"I love you," she says again.

"So you've said," Megamind replies, and Roxanne can translate his tone into a facial expression without having to look – mouth curling up at one corner, one eyebrow quirked higher than the other. "I love you t—"

"Not enough," Roxanne interrupts savagely, "I haven't said it nearly enough. How long have we been together? Four months, five? I shouldn't feel like this about you yet. It isn't right. It's too much. I'm _sensible_, I don't fall head-over-heels for anybody. Not for _anybody_. You know, I get scared sometimes about how much I love you? You're amazing. And I'm surprised at how amazing you are, and I feel _awful_ for being so surprised, because I thought the worst of you, I really did."

"Oh, come on," he protests, but Roxanne cuts him off again.

"No, _seriously_. I wanted you _dead_. I am a mean and bloodthirsty and vindictive person sometimes. Drew can tell you! After that Bernard thing, I went home and I called him and, and I said – things. Things that I _meant_, mostly. And now you're _here_, and you, you're _amazing_. And I _love_ you.

"A-and," she stammers, "and I hit you. Twice. I still feel bad about that. That thing with the projectors, remember? I slapped you."

Megamind shrugs. "I was being an idiot."

"That doesn't make it _okay!_" Roxanne exclaims. "I shouldn't have done that. It's, it's domestic violence, it is _not okay_."

"Okay, stop," Megamind says sharply, and the edge in his voice catches Roxanne's attention. "Just. Stop. I hear what you're saying, I understand what you mean, but 'domestic violence' has such a strongly negative association. Too strong. I'd say you lost your temper and did something stupid. You weren't trying to _hurt_ me."

Roxanne scowls. "It doesn't matter. I shouldn't have even _thought_ of doing that."

Megamind rolls his eyes. "Oh, for crying out loud. All right, _yes_, it was dumb. _No_, you shouldn't have done it. But it doesn't make you a bad person. And you show me someone who claims to have total control over what he thinks about doing, and I'll show you a liar. And you know I haven't held it against you, or I'd have said something – Roxanne, where is this _coming_ from?"

"I was…I was thinking about it earlier. When I was walking here. If somebody had told me five years ago that I'd be dating you and happy about it, I'd have laughed them out of town."

Well, that stings, but Megamind knows that it's true and he appreciates the honesty. "Well, if somebody had told _me_ five years ago that I'd be dating you and you'd be happy about it, I would have _run_ them out of town for being delusional and obscenely optimistic. Neither of us _expected_ this. I don't think anybody did. I'm still surprised, when I think about it."

He ducks his head forward, kisses her on the nose. "Now. I am going to go and have a shower, and then I am going to change clothes. And then we're going to have breakfast, okay?"

Roxanne nods. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. I need to call my mom about Thanksgiving, anyway."

Megamind nods and steps away, then pauses. "You're wearing different clothes."

"I used to keep a spare set at Wayne's place. For those all-night Checkers tournaments."

Megamind looks skeptical.

"Okay, so they were mixed with terrible horror movies and sci-fi originals," Roxanne admits. "Shoot your prisoner."

Megamind snorts and nods, calling over his shoulder as he heads for the hallway. "Sounds like fun, I guess. I'm more of a Scrabble guy, myself, but to each his own."

"Yeah, well, I imagine Wayne, Minion, and I would all have to team up before we'd even have half a chance against you," she shouts after him, already digging in her purse for her phone.

"Deviously intelligent!" he sings back.

Roxanne shakes her head and rolls her eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

Whew! This is a long one, folks. I apologize, but there was no good place to break it. I looked for ages. Oh, other news from Dal's Life: I'm back at school now, and spring semester is always madness. Updates will be…sometime. Soon, hopefully, but 'soon' is a relative term in the Land of the Dal.

…Hah, remember when I said Hallows' Eve was going to be a shorter fic? That was great.

Chapter 10, in which there is ONLY ANGST (you may have noticed that this whole goddamn series _Hallows' Eve_ is made pretty much entirely out of angst. _Twelve Days_ will be fluffier, I SWEAR) and everybody swears a lot. Should I change the rating of this fic to M? Let me know.

Endless thanks to Dani Kin, and ImmortalWitness for listening to me rant and offering suggestions and to Skyerana for camping on my floor and going through this with a red pen. You three. Are the bestest buds ever. This chapter has been re-worked and re-written so many times, and I couldn't have done it without you (you thought chapter 4 of True North was terrible? You should have seen the piece of crap my brain wanted to post a week or so ago. This might still be terrible, but it will be _less_ terrible, I hope).

I own nothing at all. Nothing but Nibs.

**Chapter 10**

Megamind wanders into the kitchen dressed as he usually is, in his leathers. Winter leathers are made of deerskin over a thin spandex suit – they're tougher and warmer than his summer clothes, which involve a thicker layer of spandex than his winters, but the leathers over them are top-grain, which is thinner and slightly more breathable than the deerskin. His winter clothes are much stiffer, though, even after they've been broken in. He doesn't much care for them.

_One of these days_, he thinks absently, _I should see about getting one of those Lycra suits to wear under civilian clothing_. It would be easier to move in, and he'd be able to walk around town without people staring _quite_ as much while still being comfortable. Baggy clothes still make him cringe.

_And I'll need something to wear under my suit_, he realizes. The black leather shines through white dress shirts. He hasn't been invited to any black-tie functions yet, but he knows it's only a matter of time.

Minion is standing at the counter, chopping something, Megamind isn't sure what. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. "Minion, do you think I'll ever need a tuxido?"

"Tux_e_do, Sir, accent on the second syllable."

"Whatever. A tux. Do you think I'll need one, or am I expecting too much of Metrocity?" Megamind frowns into space.

Minion throws whatever he had been chopping into the bowl beside him in a single, practiced movement. "I think if you're going to keep doing heroic things, people will start to treat you like a hero."

"That's a yes, then," Megamind mutters, his brow furrowing. "And I keep _telling_ you. I'm not a hero. And I don't want to be one."

"You just risked your life to save a kid you didn't know and helped the police catch nineteen criminals in one fell swoop. I'd say that's heroic."

Megamind scowls. "And _I'd_ say it was in the interest of maintaining order in Metrocity – if I hadn't saved him, I'd have set a precedent. Those men broke the rules, Minion. You know that."

"Of course I do, Sir." Minion rinses off the knife and takes a container of mushrooms out of the refrigerator. "But how many other people know that? They're calling you a hero, Sir, and they maintain your reputation, not me. It's all over the news."

"Urgh." Megamind lets out a growling sound and a grimace, the latter of which is wasted on Minion because his back is turned. "I'll have to do something about that. I don't _want_ to be a hero."

There's a long pause during which Minion doesn't respond.

Finally Megamind sighs. "Minion, I'm not a mind-reader."

"I guess I just don't see why you're so against it," Minion finally admits. "It could be a good thing. Good PR, you know."

"Yes," Megamind drawls sarcastically, "and then as soon as I _don't_ save somebody, they'll tear me to pieces for shirking a responsibility I never wanted in the first place." He shakes his head. "I'll defend Metroci – Metro City. I will keep her protected from external and internal threats. I will maintain order to the very best of my ability. But the welfare of individual citizens is _not_ my lookout."

Minion huffs a sigh. "Well, good luck convincing _them_ of that, Sir." He hesitates, then says, "You used to say that anything Scott could do, you could do better. He was a hero. You could be a better one."

Megamind shakes his head. "They'll accuse me of trying to usurp his legacy. I don't want that. And anyway, being a hero _destroyed_ him. You should see him, Minion. He's…down."

"Oh, is he finally dealing with the consequences of his actions?" Minion asks, too lightly for the comment to be sincere. "Good for him. Build some character."

"_Really_ down, Minion." There's a _tink_ of metal-on-metal that says Minion has just mis-chopped and hit his finger in surprise – that's the first time Megamind has ever defended Wayne. "He's been playing around with his weakness, testing his limits. I made the argument that that is very stupid, he could die from that, and you know what he said? 'It's not like anybody would miss me.' That's what he said."

Minion turns, his expression incredulous. "_What?_"

"And _that_ was what _I_ said," Megamind mutters. "Only louder."

Minion shakes his head and goes back to chopping. Megamind watches him for a while.

"Grapes," he says eventually.

Minion glances back at him. "What was that, Sir?"

"His weakness is _grapes_."

Minion turns fully around and gives him an odd, searching look. "That seems…oddly specific."

Megamind rubs both hands over his face and drops onto a chair backwards, legs splayed and straddling the seat. He slumps forward over the back of the chair. "Well, _fruit_, technically, but 'grapes' sounds more pathetic. His weakness is food with _fruit_ in. All those plots, Minion. All those plots and we could have just poisoned him."

One of Minion's hands flies to his mouth. "Oh no," he gasps, "there were tomatoes in the salsa!"

Megamind waves his concern aside. "Oh, it's fine. He's okay with some kinds; I asked. But still, _fruit_. And pollen. _Pollen!_ Such a mundane sort of allergy!"

Minion sighs, resumes chopping once again. "Don't feel bad, Sir. There was no way you could have known."

"He never had fruit in his lunches! Never ate apples or oranges or pears or anything. But I never noticed!"

"A life without pears." Minion clucks his tongue. "How dull."

"_I know!_" The sarcasm is totally lost on Megamind, who grabs his head in his hands and stares at the floor with a _why me?_ expression on his face. Force of habit, Minion assumes. He knows that Megamind, despite all of his extravagant protestations to the contrary, has never _really_ wanted Metro Man dead.

Megamind shakes himself and looks around for a diversion, a distraction, anything to take his mind off of the wealth of minor-possibly-major problems suddenly cropping up everywhere. He glances down at the newspaper and finds no relief there: _Prison break: no leads, say police_, screams the headline. He scans the article without really reading it. From the limited facts listed on the front page, it seems that a young man has managed to escape from the Metro City Prison for the Criminally Gifted. Megamind barely recognizes the name – it rings a bell, some small-time criminal in for attempted murder. Megamind has never bothered with him.

"Did you finish the watch, Sir?"

Megamind looks up. "_Almost_. Roxanne came back and I'm…well, now I'm _distracted_. There was a problem – a couple of guys in an alley jumped her, I think. She wasn't really coherent, but she managed to get her point across – there were two of them, and they were going to rob her, and now they're dead, so at least I don't have to worry about that. All the same, I think there must have been more to it. She's too deeply unsettled for it to have been _just_ a robbery."

Minion's face darkens. "You don't think they tried anything with her."

"No, no. Physically she's fine." He sighs and rubs his eyes. One night without sleep rarely takes a visible toll on him, but he'll be blinking and wide-eyed all morning. "Sundown got to her before anything could happen."

Minion blinks and puts down his knife. "I'm sorry," he says slowly, "but could you repeat that? For a moment, it sounded like you said…"

"Sundown," Megamind says again, heavily. "Yes. Who knows why he'd even bother. Rescuing damsels in distress?" He purses his lips, shakes his head. "_Really_ not his thing. But he killed the two who attacked Roxanne, so he gets points in his favor."

"Well, he must have _some_ reason," Minion says, frowning. "You know he never does things for free. Either he wants something from her or he owes her something."

"Or he owes _me_ something," Megamind muses, "which I think is more likely. I can't imagine that he would owe Roxanne anything. I don't think she has anything he wants."

"News?"

"Oh, c'mon, use your head. He doesn't need to go through _Roxanne_ for that."

"Connections," Minion suggests, but Megamind shakes his head again.

"I very much doubt it. No, I covered Lancaster's tracks about a year ago, remember? Back when Huntley was on the warpath. He might have had the drop on Lancaster, but I intervened."

"But I thought you said Lancaster would never know how close he came to getting dusted," Minion argues. "You said you didn't want him to know."

"I _don't_ want him to know; it would ruin our whole dynamic." Megamind heaves a sigh. "And I don't think he does know. But if anyone _would_ – besides the two of us, I mean – it's Sundown. And he actually _likes_ Lancaster, as far as I can tell; this could be his way of thanking me."

"Sundown doesn't like anybody." As wry as Minion's tone is, he means it. He can't imagine Sundown liking much of anything, let alone any_one_.

"He likes Lancaster," Megamind says flatly. "I don't know why, and I don't care to, but he does things for Lancaster without asking for any reciprocation – that I've heard of. I shudder to think how Lancaster bought his loyalty."

Minion shivers a little. "He gives me the willies, Sir. And why would he help Miss Ritchi if he owes you?"

"Well, like I said," Megamind says with a tired shrug. "If anyone would know about us besides the few who already do, it's Sundown."

"You think _Sundown_ knows about you and Miss Ritchi?" Minion demands, aghast. Megamind offers him a rueful smile.

"Looks that way."

Minion chews on his lip. "Ohhhh," he says. "Oh that's not good. Not good at all."

Megamind pushes himself to his feet, the little smile turning into more of a grin. "On the contrary, Minion, I think it could be a very good thing," he says, trying to sound as if he really believes what he's saying. "He's a useful man to have on your side. And if he's keeping Roxanne from getting hurt, who am I to complain?"

"There's still the matter of _how_ he knew where to be and when," Minion reminds him. Sundown has his ways, but Minion has long since given up trying to figure out what they are. Still more disturbing is that, to his knowledge, Megamind has never even _bothered_ to try – but if Sundown is keeping tabs on Roxanne's movements, maybe they had better increase their security. "Coincidence? I think not."

That takes the smile right off Megamind's face. "I need to have a talk with him," he mutters. Minion blanches.

"Sir, no. That wasn't what I meant. You said it yourself, the last time I thought you should find out where he gets his information. Remember, Sir?" Minion clears his throat and does an approximation of Megamind's broad inflection. "'Minion, this is one case where I think we're better off not knowing.' That's what you said. I distinctly remember."

Megamind glances up, then smiles. Minion _really_ doesn't like Sundown, and Megamind doesn't blame him – there's something not quite right about the man, something decidedly _other_ – but Megamind has more or less gotten used to it over the years, and Minion never has. "Still, I could use his help. Something's going on, Minion, and I don't know what it is, and I don't like it. The kidnapping, the fire? Nineteen men dead in a secure prison? People are breaking the _rules_."

He crosses to the kitchen window, clasps his hands behind his back, and stares blankly out at the drifting snow. It's a bright morning, clear, with a high wind. The weather is completely at odds with Megamind's mood and the tangle of thoughts whirling through his mind.

_And now this prison break, on top of everything else. There's too much going on for it to be pure coincidence, or maybe I'm just seeing connections where there are none_. "Does the name _Whitehill_ ring any bells?"

"Not really, Sir. No."

Megamind nods to himself. "Well, I hadn't really expected it to," he mutters, and begins to think out loud. It's something he very rarely does, but it does help him slow down his thoughts and get them in order. He shuts his eyes.

"One child kidnapped, nineteen men dead, and the forensics team didn't find the cube, which means _someone_ must have removed it. Sundown is back in the game after a solid two years of playing dead. Scott Mansion burned to the ground, it _has_ to be arson; a building that size would have failsafe measures in place, so I'll need to talk to Don and see if he knows anything. Who would have burned it down? How many enemies did Lord Scott have? Figure out who would have motive and means. The attempted mugging…Roxanne wouldn't have gotten out of the cab before the warehouse district. Those 'random guys' must have been waiting for her here. I would have heard if they had business in this area." _So how did they know she'd be on her way home? She takes that shortcut. That's _remote.

He shakes his head and turns back around, looking much more serious than many people think him capable. "The rest of it can wait; this is personal. Minion, somehow, they knew where and when to surprise Roxanne. And Sundown knew about it and interfered. I want to know how and why."

Minion gulps a little, but nods. "Just be careful, Sir. You can't trust him."

"That's where you're wrong," Megamind says as he turns towards the door. "I _can_ trust him. It's knowing what to trust him _with_ that's the hard part." And it's true, he knows it is – but the only way he'll be able to trust Sundown is if he knows why the man is bothering to help him. Sundown never does anything for free. He sighs. "I'm going to go and get Roxanne. I'll look for Sundown after breakfast; he's probably still hanging around someplace."

Minion looks uncomfortable. "Should I make up a fourth plate, then? Will he be hungry?"

Megamind blinks, but nods. "I'm not sure what he eats," _I'm not sure _if_ he eats_, whispers the little voice in the back of his mind, "but…sure. Yes. Can't hurt to offer."

Minion nods back, then hesitates. "And…Sir?"

"Mmm?"

"There's been a lot going on, and you didn't sleep last night or very much the night before, and this business with Miss Ritchi is only going to stress you out more. And there's Sundown to consider, and the watch to finish. And Bernard." Megamind had told him about his deal with the ex-curator the night before.

Megamind offers him a wan smile. "I'll be fine, Minion. I can handle it."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Megamind slows down as he approaches the main room, his turmoil of thoughts about Sundown and Bernard distracted by the tone of Roxanne's voice. The curtain is closed, and the heavy fabric blocks a lot of sound, but Roxanne is being loud. Megamind stops outside, wondering whether to go in or wait for her to finish.

She's arguing with her mother again. Three guesses as to what it's about, and Megamind suspects the first two don't count. Roxanne and her mother only disagree _this_ vehemently about one subject.

He swallows and backs away, planning to tiptoe back to the kitchen.

"No, and I – what? No!" There's a pause. "That is _sick_," Roxanne hisses, and Megamind's heart sinks a little. _Walk away_, he thinks. _Just walk away. You don't have to listen to this_.

"You are _sick_. You know what they'd _do_ to him? …Of course I care! Do you have _any idea_ the kinds of things he's done for me? How many times do I have to tell you that – I hate that book, you _know_ I hate it," and Megamind knows she's talking about Blue is the Colour of Evil; Roxanne has mentioned that it's the one her mother usually quotes from, "so why would you – _do not bring Chad into this!_"

Megamind freezes mid-tiptoe. He has _never_ heard her sound like that before. Not for him, not for Titan, not for Anderson, not for _anybody_. Her voice has taken on a hysterical note, and it's gone all shaky and shrill and is rapidly rising in pitch and volume. "Chad was _evil!_ I know what evil looks like, Mother, and it is _not! Blue!_ So you can just – what? _What?_"

Another pause. Megamind swallows and thinks that perhaps now he _really_ ought to leave, but the next thing out of Roxanne's mouth stops him in his tracks. "Oh? Oh, you really want to know? _Evil_ hits its girlfriend when she's late coming home from work! _Evil_ makes sure not to leave bruises where they'll show! _Evil_ cracks two of her ribs and gives her a black eye! _Evil_ throws her down the stairs after she gets fucking _kidnapped_ and calls her a two-timing bitch! _Evil has sex with her whether she wants it or not! Don't you DARE tell me what evil looks like!_"

Megamind feels the blood drain from his face.

"_That's what evil looks like!_" Roxanne is screaming, now. She's going to be hoarse tomorrow. "_It's not blue! Blue is SAFE! Blue means nothing else can touch me!_"

There's a brief silence, during which the world is totally still and Megamind does not breathe.

Then Roxanne says, in a strangled voice, "Yeah, well, there's a lot I don't tell you." A sharp exhalation, like someone getting the wind knocked out of them. "Why would you – how could – you –" Roxanne sounds bewildered, and Megamind risks a glance around the door. She's standing in the middle of the room, pale-faced, with two fever-red blotches high on each cheekbone and her fingers white-knuckled on her cell phone. There are tears in her eyes and on her face, and her eyes are wide and staring.

"Don't ever call me again," she says shakily. "If I want to talk to you, I will call you." She clicks her phone closed and glares at it for a moment. Her shoulders hitch once and she chokes and gulps audibly, then shakes her head hard a few times as if attempting to clear it, sniffing and trying to get her shallow breathing under control. Trying not to cry, she stuffs her phone into the pocket of her jeans, squares her shoulders, and looks up.

And sees Megamind hovering uncertainly in the doorway, blinking at her, pale and tense. "Um," he says, glancing nervously to either side. He lifts a tentative hand and points over his shoulder. "I'll just…um…I should go? I should go. You probably, um." He stammers and dithers and his eyebrows are creeping higher and higher up his forehead, but his eyes are worried. And even though he seems to be trying to say that he should leave her alone, he's inching slowly towards her.

Really, he has no idea what to do. Should he go? Does she want to be left alone? This isn't the Roxanne he knows – his Roxanne is a rock. She can deal with _anything_. She's also very independent, and probably doesn't want him to see her like this; he knows he'd be mortified if he let her see _him_ like this. Should he stay? She probably doesn't want to have any contact with anyone for a while, except maybe Jo. He feels a wash of relief at the thought of the tough little woman. _Jo_. _Jo will know how to deal with this_. Megamind is going to back away, and he's going to close the door very very quietly behind him, and then he is going to call Jo and—

"Megamind," Roxanne says. "I didn't. You. I'm not." She brushes at her eyes for a moment and then forces a shaky smile. It's a pretty good smile, all things considered, but her blue eyes are _huge_. Megamind can see the whites all around.

He edges closer. "Are you okay?"

"Me?" She lets out a little laugh – too high-pitched, too strained – and waves a hand. "Oh. Yeah, I'm. I'm fine. I just kinda…lost it for a minute."

She's backing up, though, and Megamind is pretty sure it's unconscious. "Because you don't look okay."

"Yeah, I know, I, I probably look a mess. But I'm fine really. Really." Step. Step.

"You look like you need to sit down," Megamind says, using his very best _I-know-what-I'm-talking-about_ voice. Roxanne shakes her head.

"Nope. I'm fine. I'm _fine_."

"You're _lying_." Megamind pitches his voice just a little bit lower than usual, and Roxanne stops moving. Megamind watches her, forces himself to look as non-threatening as possible. "You're lying to _me_."

She's hugging her arms across her chest, staring at him. He _really_ doesn't know what to do.

"Now, I know that I…I probably wasn't supposed to hear all of that…"

She sniffs. Her eyes get even bigger, which Megamind hadn't thought possible. And then the lower lid starts squinching up, and her mouth starts wobbling, and she's going to _cry_ and he just can't stand it, he can't _stand_ it – he doesn't know if it's the right thing or the wrong thing to do but he leaps forward and drags her into the circle of his arms, clutches her against him as hard as he can.

Roxanne shoves her face into his shoulder and _sobs_.

"Oh god," he says, feeling rather like crying himself, both for her and for his total lack of competence. He doesn't have to be able to smell properly to know that she reeks of fear and confusion and impotent anger, and he _really_ isn't equipped to help deal with that. What's he supposed to say? What's he supposed to _do?_

"I'm _sorry_," Roxanne wails. "I'm _sorry—_I didn't know how to tell you—and I thought if you knew you'd try to hurt him—so I didn't say anything—I wanted to _I wanted to_ but I _couldn't_ tell you—I'm so _sorry_—"

"Don't be silly," he says flatly. Sympathetic phrases like _there, there, it's okay_ are not in Megamind's repertoire, mostly because 'there, there' means nothing and it is obviously _not_ okay. "You think _I_ don't know what it's like to have crap to deal with? No. Shhhh. I know."

"_But I should have told you —_"

"How do you bring something like that up?" he demands. "'Oh, by the way, my last boyfriend was physically abusive, just so you know?'" He shakes his head – granted, he really _would_ have appreciated something along those lines. But that's not the point right now. "_Honestly_. No. Shut up. It's…hard to say some things, sometimes. It's fine."

It isn't fine, and they both know it. Roxanne cries harder, muffling the sound in his chest. Their similarity in height makes it difficult, but she manages.

"Okay," Megamind says, patting her hair awkwardly, "okay. You…you just cry, that's fine too. Let it out. Okay." He wants to call for Minion. It's been years since the last time Megamind himself was this distraught, but Minion had always known exactly what to do. Also, Minion is bigger and slightly more cuddly than Megamind is, and maybe Roxanne needs that right now? As much as Megamind is a fan of hugs – and he is the biggest fan of hugs – he will be the first to suggest that he's probably not very good at giving them because he's so small and bony. But Minion is made of hard metal, so no, that might be a bad idea. Who does Megamind know who's bigger than he is, isn't made of metal, and is someone Roxanne trusts?

_Oh I am so stupid_, he thinks, then shifts his hold on Roxanne so that he can reach his watch and call Minion, then summons Nibs. It appears in under ten seconds. "Go find Metro Man and bring him here," he mutters. "_Fast_. Top speed. Priority omega." The brainbot _thaums_ and zooms away.

If nothing else, Wayne at least will have the social skills to be able to figure out what to do. Besides, he has experience dealing with hysterical women – he must have, with his career. Megamind is just good at _making_ people hysterical.

Roxanne's phone rings in her pocket, buzzing against Megamind's hip, and he manages to jimmy it out and look at the call ID screen. _Mom_, it says. He considers letting it go to voicemail.

Then he looks at Roxanne, who is still shaking in his arms, and he scowls.

"Hello," he says quietly, as soon as he opens the phone, "I don't know _what_ you just said to your daughter, but she's crying all over me and I don't think she wants to talk to you right now."

"Tell her to fuck off and die!" Roxanne snarls, turning her face to the side just long enough to get the words out.

Megamind rubs her back and glares at nothing. "I am pretty sure she heard you, Miss Ritchi."

"Who the hell is this?" Linda snaps.

"Listen. Both of you need to take a step back, cool off, take a…a chilly pill, and relax." Somebody has to be the grown-up, here, and if Roxanne and her mother are both too angry…_Guess it's up to me_. "And once you've cooled off and you're thinking clearly again, you should either agree to disagree about certain subjects or consider being a little bit more open-minded. Just a, you know, just a thought."

Linda's voice goes cold. "_Who the hell is this_, I said."

Megamind has one nerve left, and Linda is standing on it. "Oh, who does it sound like?" he snaps back. "This is _Blue_. And you can hate me all you want, I don't care, but I really wish you'd just let your daughter make her own decisions about who her friends are."

Then he realizes what he's just said, and gulps and blurts out a hurried, "Have a nice day," and hangs up.

He looks down at the top of Roxanne's head. "I think I just did a very stupid thing," he tells her. He tries to sound surprised.

Roxanne mumbles something.

"Sorry?"

"I said _I_ _hate her_."

Megamind pulls back a little. "Oh no," he says, taken aback. "No, you don't. Not really. You're just upset right now."

Roxanne plants a hand on his chest and pushes him the rest of the way away. Megamind actually takes a step back when he sees the look on her face. He's never seen Roxanne look so angry. "She is the only one who can make me like this so easily," she hisses. "She makes me want to be _violent_. The last time I felt this mad was when –" She cuts herself off, clamps her mouth shut.

"When what?" Megamind asks. Roxanne shakes her head. "When _what?_" he insists.

She looks at him. "When I found out about Bernard. Th-that was pretty major." She clenches her hands into fists. "Drew can tell you. I said – things. Awful things. Things I _meant_. I scare myself when I'm like this – it doesn't happen often. But Mom can get me like this just by _talking_."

"Sir, what _happened?_"

Megamind starts; he hadn't heard Minion come in. The fish is staring at Roxanne with wide eyes. "Her mother happened," Megamind says shortly, and Minion's face goes studiously blank.

"Ah," says Minion, and then, in an odd, tense voice, "Tea. Tea is a nice, comforting drink. Miss Ritchi, would you like some tea?"

Roxanne's voice comes out strained. "Tea would be lovely, Minion. Thank you."

"Of course. Oh, and Sir, I will need to borrow Miss Ritchi's cell phone." Megamind tosses it to him. "Thank you." He disappears again without another word, clanking off down the hall.

_Why did he need her cell phone to make tea?_ Megamind wonders. He honestly can't think of a single plausible reason. Luckily, he isn't kept in the dark for very long – twelve seconds later, there's a horrible crashing noise and part of the ceiling falls in. Megamind yells and almost jumps out of his skin, and Roxanne is startled into a shriek as she leaps away like a frightened rabbit.

Minion, good old reliable wonderful fantastic Minion, who holds grudges longer than most barnacles cling to ships – Minion has called for backup.

"Roxie?" Wayne spins in a quick circle in midair. He's in jeans and a white sweater, which Megamind supposes counts as 'dressed,' but he's only wearing one sock. He has a toothbrush in one hand and his cell phone in the other, and he sounds like his mouth is full – he stops spinning when he sees Roxanne. His eyebrows go up and the cell phone and toothbrush go flying in opposite directions as he spits hurriedly and flits over.

"Kindly do not spit on my floor!" Megamind snaps, more because of the principle of the thing than because he actually cares where Wayne spits his toothpaste when Roxanne is like this. "And how many times do I have to tell you to just _use the door?_"

Wayne ignores him in favor of stooping and folding Roxanne into a massive bear hug. "_Wayne_," Roxanne cries, and flings her arms around his neck. Megamind's first reaction is an almost unbelievable amount of relief. It's funny, he thinks, that he still associates Metro Man with Roxanne's safety. His second reaction is – much as he hates to admit it, and does he ever hate to admit it – some jealousy at the way Roxanne is holding onto Wayne.

That last nerve of his is jangling like crazy.

"Uh. What…" Wayne looks at Megamind over the top of Roxanne's head, totally bewildered. "What the hell?"

Megamind thinks of eleven ways to answer that, and picks the fourth one because it's the most relevant to his interests at the moment. "Roxanne's ex-boyfriend, Chad. I don't suppose you know his surname?"

"Don't tell him," Roxanne mumbles, and Megamind feels like he has just been punched. He had been holding Roxanne earlier, but she had not reciprocated at all, had not seemed to need _him_ at all, but there she is _clinging_ to Wayne. Which had sort of been the point of calling him over in the first place, but now she's telling Wayne to hide things from him? _Okay, wow. That really stings_.

"Uh," Wayne says again, blinking first down at Roxanne, then back over at Megamind. "Why?"

"Tell me, Wayne," Megamind says evenly. "Do you know?"

"Well, yeah, I mean…"

"Then _tell me_."

"Don't," Roxanne says again, and Megamind looks at her, filled with a sudden burning rage that has absolutely nowhere to go. He wants to _do_ something. Anything. He wants, badly, to help, but Roxanne is refusing to let him – she's just shutting him down, refusing to let him even _try_.

"No," he says, just as Wayne opens his mouth. "No, you know what? Don't tell me. If you don't want me to know," Megamind says to Roxanne, "I guess I just won't know. That's cool. That's just…_fine_."

"Uh…" Wayne glances around as if he might find an answer or explanation for Megamind's reaction somewhere in the Lair, because he can tell just by looking that he's not going to get anything like a coherent response from Megamind in the near future. Megamind has just agreed to forgo information, which is a pretty safe indication that he's pissed. He's standing there with his chin up and his arms straight down by his sides, staring at Roxanne with flashing green eyes, the thin black brows angled like two furious slash marks above them.

Wayne tenses, expecting him to start racing around the lair and screaming about something or other at any second. But then Megamind's eyes squeeze closed and he takes a deep breath and lets out a high-pitched sound like a rusty teakettle, chatters something in what Wayne recognizes as Chinese but doesn't understand, flails his arms a bit, hops up and down a few times, stamps his feet, yells on an incoherent monosyllable for a few seconds, and finally scrubs his hands over his face and mutters his way into silence. And goes back to staring at Roxanne.

_Huh_, Wayne thinks. _That's new_. Then Roxanne wriggles a little, so he sets her on the floor before landing a short distance away.

She reaches towards Megamind, but he actually _skips back_, his movements strange and jerky. Roxanne recoils, blinking. "Um," she says, "Megamind?"

"Don't," he says, breathing hard through his nose, and shakes his head. "Don't."

"I brought tea!" Minion announces cheerily, wheeling a dolly into the room. There's a teapot, an empty ice tray, and three cups, two of which are normal-looking china teacups and one of which is a stainless-steel tankard. The dolly squeaks horribly when it moves, setting Wayne's hair on end. Minion glances at Wayne and nods curtly. "Scott."

Wayne manages a sickly-looking smile and a jerky nod. "Minion," he returns. Then, hurriedly and ignoring the fact that Minion is staring at him as if he has sprouted a second head, he says, "Look, I'm not sure what you needed me for. Roxie, would you _please_ tell me what's going on?"

She gulps and blinks owlishly at him. "I," she says hollowly, "I – can't."

"Oh that's such _shit_," Megamind snarls, sharply enough to make even Wayne jump. "Look at you, all holding onto him like – like he's everything, and yeah okay that was sort of the point, but now you're saying you can't tell _him_ what's wrong with you? That's _so_ stupid. That's _insane_. What the hell what the _hell_ _what the hell_. Maybe you can't tell _me_ – fine, whatever, I'll just deal with that _on my_ _own_, thanks – but I _know_ you can tell him."

Roxanne stares at him, then at Wayne, then swallows and rubs her hair a little. "I don't…I don't think I understand."

"_The point is that you evidently feel like you can't trust me enough to talk to me about whatever it is that's bothering you. If you can't talk to me, something's wrong_.'" He tilts his head at her with a sardonic smile, taps a finger against his temple. "Eidetic memory. It's a _bitch_, isn't it. You're such a hypocrite!"

"Hey now, all right, back off," Wayne warns, but Megamind ignores him, glares at Roxanne.

"So, what, I'm supposed to talk to you about _all my problems_ and you talk to me about _nothing_ and I am not allowed to be upset about this?" He swallows, scowling bleakly. "_Relationships are give and take_."

Roxanne blinks and draws back – almost flinches. "Wha – you can't –"

Suddenly he spins on his heels and throws out his arms. "Brainbots!" he cries. Roxanne jumps back a few feet. "You lot – yes, you! Fetch me the Couch! And put it there, in the corner, at an angle." He points at the corner under the thick of his idea cloud, and a few bots detach from the rest of the host to go get the demanded sofa. "And chairs. You nine, bring me the Comfy Chair. _Deactivate it first!_ I don't think it's charged, but better safe than sorry. Gamma group, bring Minion's chair from his room. And you three! I need a rug. The blue Persian, I think. And the glass coffee table, and the matching floor lamps."

He trots over to the corner he had indicated, where he stands with his back straight and his hands on his hips, barking orders and pointing imperiously until all necessary furniture has been arranged into what is actually a fairly cozy little sitting area in the corner of what had previously been the cold cement floor under his idea cloud.

Finally he turns around. "All right," he announces. "_Now_ we can hash this out in style." He throws himself backwards onto the sofa, sits cross-legged at one end – it's a testament to the leather that it doesn't tear when the spikes on his boots scrape across it.

Roxanne starts to move towards the Comfy Chair, but Megamind stares at her. She blinks at him. He blinks back, and Roxanne swallows and wedges herself into the corner of the sofa as far from Megamind as she can and pulls her knees to her chest.

Wayne takes the Comfy Chair, as Megamind had intended him to. It's far too big for anybody else.

_Besides, even if it goes off, it won't do anything to him_, he reasons. _There isn't any fruit in it_.

"Brainbots, hot plate and ice beam," Minion says as he approaches with the tray. He sets the kettle down on the hot plate and leaves the ice beam where it is, then sits gingerly down in his chair. It isn't in his nature to sit still when Megamind is like this, or when people are over.

"So, are we ready to get this sorted out or what?" Megamind asks Roxanne. His upper foot is twitching wildly, but his arms are clamped over his chest like a bar. And as flat and hard as his expression is, his eyes are still desperately searching hers for answers – Roxanne can't tell what he's feeling; his face is _so_ expressive, and the emotions flashing past range from anger to worry to suspicion but they're moving too quickly for her to get an accurate reading on him.

She looks down at her hands. "I…don't know if I'm ready for this."

"Yeah, well, I didn't think I was ready to get all touchy-feely with you several months ago, but you dragged it out of me and I was fine. You're a strong lady. You'll be fine too." Megamind's voice is sharp and strangely brittle. "Triggers for triggers," he adds. "Science and studying and Washington, D.C. Your turn."

Roxanne stares at him. "You're…are you trying to make me feel _guilty_ about that?"

"And behold my success."

"That's not very nice."

"No," he agrees, "it isn't. But it's effective, and I'm just a _little_ bit upset." He stares right back at her, and Roxanne glares as if she's been betrayed. Megamind's eyes narrow. "Roxanne, I will be here for you no matter what, and you know it, so stop looking at me like that. But I thought – I thought that when I started telling you things you needed to know about me, you'd do the same. But prior to today, you gave me _no_ indications! Oh, sure, you told me Chad was a douchebag, oh yeah, that's _great_, that's all you ever needed to say. I'm a _genius_, I'm not _psychic_," he snarls. "Remember a couple of months ago, when you were all, 'trust me, Megamind, talk to me, Megamind, blah blee blee blah'?"

"That's not—"

"_Do you remember?_"

Slowly, she nods. "Yes, I remember."

"All right, then allow me to respectfully inquire as to _what the fuck?_" He rolls a little and suddenly he's kneeling on the sofa cushions, feet curled under, back straight. It's a _louder_ position, somehow, especially now that he's using his hands to gesticulate wildly as he speaks. "What, were you lying? Was it all bullshit, or did you mean it? You _sounded_ like you meant it."

"No, I – I meant it!" she exclaims.

"Then why didn't you do the same?"

"I don't know why you're so angry!" Roxanne cries, hugging her knees and staring at him. "I don't – I don't understand –"

Megamind rears back, one hand flying into the air, fingers together, palm flat, poised to strike. Roxanne clamps her mouth shut and throws her arms up to shield her head.

Megamind drops his hand. "That's why," he says softly. "_That's_ why I'm angry. I thought you were scared of _me_. I thought it was something _I_ did that rendered you so frantic you had to resort to _counting_ to get yourself back under control. I thought it was _my fault_. You could have just _said_ you'd been in an abusive relationship! What is so hard about that? 'I just get head-shy sometimes?'" He throws out his hands, eyes wide with indignant anger. "What the _hell?_ That's not an answer! That's not anything like what I need to know about that kind of situation!"

Roxanne swallows again and glances down at her hands. "What is your _problem?_ What do you need to know?"

"My _problem?_" His voice is rising, he can hear it, but he's powerless to stop it. He has lost his temper, and with it, an unsettling amount of self-control. "At the risk of sounding more emo than I have in my _entire_ life, my _problem_ is that I have bared my _soul_ to you! I have given you information that could end life as I know it! And you '_evidently_' don't _trust_ me enough or, or don't _care_ enough to reciprocate. I need to _know_ these things, so that I don't do something so incredibly stupid that you lose all trust and leave me for good! I thought you _knew that!_ If I ever lost control and did something stupid and slapped _you_, god forbid, you would never trust me again! And I wouldn't know why. I've been flying _blind_ around – oh my _god_, Roxanne, is _this_ why you were so weird and stammery when I was geeking out over Nibs and that stupid table?"

Wayne leans over and nudges Minion. "Should we be here for this?" he whispers. Minion looks at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

"It is, isn't it? _Fuck_, Roxanne!" Megamind presses both fists to the side of his skull in a hair-pulling motion. "What is _wrong_ with you? For that matter, what's wrong with _me?_ I thought you _trusted_ me! I _know_ I trusted _you!_"

"I _do_ trust you, I just –" Roxanne shakes her head wildly. "I just, I couldn't. I was _scared_, okay?"

Megamind's eyes nearly bug right out of his head. "Of what? Of _me?_ How long have you been scared of _me?_"

"All right, that's enough," Wayne snaps, and rises – draws himself up to his full height, towering briefly over the seated trio before he leans forward and grabs Megamind by the collar with one hand.

He lifts the blue alien effortlessly off the couch, and Megamind goes _nuts_. He twists and thrashes, lips pulling back from white teeth in a snarling shriek as he claws desperately at Wayne's fingers and wrist. His nails leave whitish lines in Wayne's skin, but fail to raise anything resembling welts, and Megamind lets out a startlingly creative stream of profanity that covers everything from Wayne's size to his mother to his intelligence and back again. Most of it is in English, although Wayne thinks he recognizes a few Spanish slurs.

"_Put him down!_" Minion is on his feet as well, now, metal hands clenching into shining fists.

Wayne glances at him and shakes his head. "Sorry, Minion. Not this time. I'll be right back. Won't hurt him, I promise." He stalks over to the curtain, yanks it aside, and hurls Megamind into the hallway beyond.

Where he catches the smaller man before he falls to startle him into silence. This time, Megamind dangles from Wayne's fist so that he's facing him, and Megamind clamps his arms over his chest, glowering from beneath lowered brows and breathing hard. Wayne fully expects him to spit in his face, and Megamind does not disappoint.

Wayne doesn't react. "Are you finished?" he asks grimly.

"Fuck you," Megamind snarls. "_Fuck. You_."

"Yeah, I know, fuck me and the horse I rode in on and anybody who looks like me, yeah okay, I get it, you're mad." Wayne rolls his eyes. "Same to you and so's your mum. _Are you done now?_"

Megamind just glares at him in ringing silence, which Wayne decides to take as a 'yes.' "_Good_," he snarls. "Now, you listen to me, you little blue son of a maraca. You're gonna stay out here until you've got your head on straight. Yeah, I agree that she should have given you a little bit of a head's-up, but you are _way_ out of line and I'm not going to sit and watch you antagonize her. And believe me, I would love to see things from your point of view, but—" he leans in, gets right up in Megamind's face, "—I don't think I'll be able to get my _head_ far enough up my _ass_. I'm not sure what all your deal is right now, but you best check yourself before you wreck yourself, because you can bet your butt that Roxanne is _not_ going to respond well to you yelling at her."

He sets Megamind carefully on his feet.

"For what it's worth, I didn't know about it, either. She's never said a single thing to me about anything Chad ever did to her." Wayne shakes his head and stuffs his hands in his pockets. "And Roxie and me are both really picky about who we show emotions to. We have the same stupid double standard."

Megamind starts and looks up at him, then, and Wayne shrugs. "Oh, we know it isn't fair. We know it's dumb. We also know it's really hard to do anything else. It doesn't matter if she breaks down on _me_; I already know she isn't the unshakable pillar of strength she wants everybody to think she is. But your opinion matters too much.

"I'm telling you this because you've had a shitty life and I think a lot of that is my fault, but it's looking up for you and you deserve to be happy for once. And so does Roxie. And it makes me _sick_, seeing you throwing that into jeopardy like it's nothing. _So listen up_. I'm telling you stuff that she'd probably kill me for telling you, and I will _not_ say this again."

There's an awful lot of confusion crawling into Megamind's expression, now, and it's joined by an odd, terrible hope, and Wayne hates himself for making the little guy look so wrecked. But he presses on ruthlessly. "_She loves you_. If you ask me, she's scared to death of losing you. Which she doesn't like, because she's spent so long telling herself that she doesn't want a relationship. You should _hear_ how often she used to say that to me. Whenever the subject would come up, she was always 'Well, you know me, Wayne, I don't _need_ anybody.' But here you come along and sweep her off her feet? After everything that's happened? She has some issues, Blue; she's not the rock you think she is. But she _wants_ you to think she's a rock."

He shrugs again. "That's my input. I could be totally wrong, but I really don't think I am." He starts to turn around, but then he pauses. "Oh. And one more thing. Stop worrying about how comfortable she is with me, okay? I told you before: she's really not my type."

"But," Megamind whispers. Wayne cuts him off.

"No. I am telling you right now that I am not, I have never been, and I will never be attracted to Roxanne Ritchi. And she doesn't want me, either."

"But she might someday," Megamind manages to protest. His head is spinning, the thoughts whirling too rapidly now for him to keep up. "I mean – you _fit_ together, you two always have – she lets you pick her up and toss her around without batting an eye, she cries on you, she _trusts_ you – I don't fit with anybody, I'm still just – I've _never_ seen her cry before, not like _that_." He blinks rapidly, angry tears starting in his eyes. His breathing is getting shallow, and he can see Wayne's eyebrows going down, which is never a good sign, but he can't seem to stop talking. "I can't – she's not. You're _perfect_ for her. Anyone can see it. And she's perfect for _you_. Why's she settling for me, I'm not – she shouldn't _do_ that."

"Oh my _god_," Wayne snarls, slamming a closed fist into the wall hard enough to leave a dent. "Shut up. Shut up, shut up, shut _up_. Holy shit-slinging _fuck_. Your head is _so big_ but you are _amazingly fucking brainless_. You seriously haven't figured it out."

"L-leave me alone." Megamind steps back, shaking his head. "Give me a – a minute. I can handle this. I can handle this. Leave me alone."

"Yeah, I think we just saw how good you are at handling it," Wayne starts, but that's when Megamind's very last nerve finally snaps. It's amazing, really, that Wayne can see it happen so clearly. His pupils blow wide and his voice shoots up the octave.

"_Leave me alone!_" he screams, between huge gulping gasps, and Wayne drops his aggressive stance and backs off immediately. "I can't _think_ – you're too – you, I can't _think_, I can't _deal_ with all these _people_ – Bernard and Mercedes and Sundown and – and Roxanne, and I have to balance her and Minion, and –"

_Holy smokes_. Wayne takes a cautious step forward. "Megamind? Little buddy?"

"And _you_," Megamind shrieks, cringing away from Wayne with his whole body, "and the _fire_ I'm so _sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry _I should have _done something_ I should have _heard_ – why are you here, why are you _helping_ me I don't _deserve_ any help – Roxanne, you, Minion, I don't – leave me _alone_, getaway from me, get _away!_ Like you _should!_" His head goes down and he makes an awful noise like a train whistle torturing a piccolo, sobbing tremolo overtones and everything.

"Move over," Minion snaps, and Wayne jumps aside so that the robotic body can push past him. "Here, Sir. It's all right. I've got you, you're all right."

"Is he gonna be okay?" Wayne asks, shaken.

Megamind lifts his head without opening his eyes. "_'Okay' is an abbreviation of a misspelled 'all correct' and is incorrect in that context!_" he howls.

"I think it's best if you just don't say anything," Minion tells Wayne.

"Should I go home?" Wayne isn't sure exactly what just happened, but it seems to have had a really adverse effect on Megamind, and he feels unexpectedly bad about it. Megamind has never snapped before, that Wayne has seen, and he hadn't really thought he _could_ ever push the little guy to the breaking point. "Seems like I've done more harm than good, I mean…"

"Oh, no," Minion says bitterly, as he takes Megamind's head in his hands and brings his friend around around to face him, "you've done us a favor. All this would have come out eventually. Better to have it all out in the open. Sir, it's me. It's Minion, it's your Minion."

Megamind has passed beyond coherency, but he pushes his head forward until he runs into the metal breastplate and grabs Minion's hands in his own. Minion turns to look over his shoulder at Roxanne. "Miss Ritchi?"

"Can I help?" she whispers, hugging her arms and staring at Megamind. She doesn't notice Wayne backing slowly down the hall, and if Minion does, he doesn't mention it. "Will he let me?"

"I'm interested to see if he does," Minion replies tightly. "I've managed to calm him down before by insisting that I'd always be here for him, so I'm wondering what will happen if you can convince him that I'm not the only one. You two should really hammer this out on your own, you know. It'll never last if you can't freak out on each other every now and again."

Roxanne comes up behind Megamind without hesitation, wraps her arms around his chest from behind and curls her cheek into the curve of his shoulder. The effect on Megamind is electric – he spasms away into Minion and then whips around, staring at Roxanne, his eyes wide, the pupils dilated.

"You-you-you," he stammers. "Still here, what are you _doing_ – what are you still doing _here?_"

She reaches forward to take his hand. He looks desperately shocked at this, huddling back against Minion as his bewildered gaze searches Roxanne's face. She takes hold of the buckle on his upper arm, pulls it back and down to release it, tugs off his glove to expose blue skin, then nets her fingers with his and studies their joined hands.

"You know," she says, fighting to keep her voice steady, "doing this with Peter and Chad would always start hurting after a while, because their fingers were too thick. But your hands are just right." She looks up, catches his eye. "I could do this with you forever."

He stares at her for a moment, and then his face crumples and he reaches for her, slings his free arm around her shoulders and all but lurches forward into her neck, tears his hand from hers so that he can hold onto her with both arms.

Minion steps back, and Roxanne looks at him. He glances meaningfully towards the kitchen, mouths something like, _I'm going to go_. Roxanne nods.

"Come on," she says to Megamind, pushing at him a little – not too much, but enough to get him so that they can both walk. "Come on, let's go back where we can sit down."

She eases off to the side and keeps an arm around his waist until they get to the sofa, where she lets go so she can push him backwards onto the couch. Then she drops into a crouch in front of him and looks up. "Sweetie. Hey. What was that?"

He swallows hard. Walking – the simple act of moving forward, putting one foot in front of the other – seems to have done him some good. "You're going to think I'm an idiot," he rasps, and Roxanne rubs her hands up and down his calves a few times. She can only deal with so many crises at once, and she'd much rather deal with Megamind's. She's aware, in a vague sort of way, that she ought to be angry with him for blaming her as much as he apparently does and for exploding at her, but she just…doesn't care. Not right now. After all, it's clear to her that something is going on underneath the surface – in all the years she has known Megamind, he has never broken down like this. And anyway, what good would getting mad do? No good at all.

Better to just move on. They'll talk about it later.

"Megamind, love. I already know you're an idiot. I don't _care_. I just want to know why you went nova back there."

Megamind goes rigid, seizes up, and Roxanne covers his hands with hers and squeezes hard. His voice when he finally speaks sounds strangled and wobbly. "_Please_. Don't use that term."

Roxanne blinks. "Wha…? Oh." She groans and drops her head against Megamind's knees, grimacing. "Crap. I'm sorry, sweetie. I forgot."

"And stop apologizing, stop _apologizing_, I'm the one who should be apologizing. I'm sorry." He gulps, stares wildly down at her. "I'm. I'm sorry. Roxanne, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm sorry f-for everything. I'm – I'm sorry I let Wayne's dad die, and I'm sorry I pretended to be Bernard, and—"

"Oh, hush," Roxanne tells him, shaking her head. "We've moved past that. It's okay. And what, you _let_ Lord Scott die? You had nothing to do with that!"

It's like Megamind hasn't heard a single word. He keeps stammering apologies. "I-I'm sorry I tried force you away, I'm sorry I left you at the shoolhouse so you had to go face Titan on your own, I'm sorry I kidnapped you all those times, I'm sorry I couldn't do a better job on the rebuild project, I'm sorry I never told you about York and Lancaster and Sundown, I'm sorry I was so horrible to Bernard, I'm sorry I couldn't just _quit_ in high school, I'm sorry I lied and cheated and exploited to get where I am, I'm sorry I made Titan and I'm sorry I couldn't save Hal, I'm s-sorry I made you worry, I'm sorry I yelled about Chad, I'm sorry I ruined your relationship with your mother – I'm – I'm sorry I – I'm _sorry_ –" He draws a shuddery breath and slumps forward, shoulders shaking, his face in his hands.

_Jesus, I am really bad at this_, Roxanne thinks, reaching up to twine her arms around her boyfriend's shoulders as she crawls onto the sofa. Megamind – Megamind is _crying_. She hadn't been sure that was even possible. "Okay. Listen. _I'm_ sorry I didn't tell you about Chad. I should have at least given you fair warning. I didn't because, for one thing, I'm almost completely fine now."

"S-_Stop_ _apologizing_. I'm _serious_." He pushes his mouth against her shoulder, and Roxanne has to think for a couple of seconds before she realizes that he's trying to bite her but can't quite bring himself to.

She chuckles in spite of herself and hugs him closer. "Oh, for heaven's sake. And sweetie, the rest of that stuff? It doesn't matter. You don't need to be _sorry_ about it."

Hugging on the sofa doesn't really work, but Roxanne refuses to stand up for this conversation, so she turns, sits loosely cross-legged and takes Megamind by the shoulders to turn him a little

He sniffs hugely, sliding his hands down to rest on her arms, reluctant to let her go. He gulps, his breath coming in little hiccupping gasps as he blinks at her in total confusion. "Wh-what are you doing?"

"C'mon, sit sideways – no, _facing_ me." Roxanne grabs his legs and pushes them apart. "Right, okay, now hold still." She scoots forward to wrap her own legs around Megamind's waist. It's a little awkward, but better than sitting twisted to the side.

"There," she says, "now I can hug you without getting a crick in my neck."

"I still don't understand why you'd _want_ to," he whispers, holding himself stiffly away from her. "After – all those awful things I said to you –"

Roxanne sighs. "Honey. You don't freak out like that over nothing. I know you don't. Will you tell me what's got you so worked up?"

Megamind's expression shutters, a little. He looks almost reproachful, a little indignant, a little injured. "You said," he whispers, "you said you wanted to tell me but couldn't. Roxanne." He stares at her. "Why _can't_ you?"

Roxanne almost turns the subject back to him. Megamind is very vulnerable right now, and it would be so easy to just evade the question – she knows he would let her if she guilt-tripped him about it. It would be _so easy_, and she almost does it. Almost says, _I'm not comfortable with that right now, give me some time, you've made your point_.

But if she does, she'll be acknowledging that she can't talk to him about certain subjects. And she'll be manipulating him in the worst way.

And she really does owe him an explanation.

But she can't. Not yet. She _can't_. So what she says is, "You first. And then, I promise, I give you my word, I'll try my very hardest to explain."

"Deal," he whispers, and lets his breath out in a long, shuddering sigh. "God. This is just. You're going to think I'm so stupid."

"You aren't stupid." Roxanne smiles at him and kisses his forehead. "You're wickedly, deviously intelligent. Remember?"

"Oh yes I am," he warns. "That's just to mask my inherent stupidity.

She purses her lips and tilts her head, regards him critically for a moment. "How about you tell me why you're so stupid, and then I'll tell you if I agree."

"Fair enough," he agrees shakily. "I freaked out over nothing. I was…upset that I didn't know about Chad." _Upset that you didn't tell me about Chad_, he doesn't say, but he knows she reads him loud and clear. "And it was just, that was the last straw. Maxence two nights ago, and now there are nineteen men dead for no discernible reason, and somebody took away the one I dehydrated – so whoever's behind it hasn't been caught, and I have _no leads_. And now Sundown has come out to play, and he knew where and when and how to help you, and he told you to tell me hello from him, so he definitely knows about us."

"He also said to tell you that his debt hasn't been repaid," Roxanne remembers suddenly, and Megamind blinks. Then his eyebrows shoot up.

"Really? He said that?" Megamind lets out another sigh, but this one is one of relief. "Well, that's one a load off my shoulders, at least."

Roxanne swallows. "And Chad's last name is Whitehill. I guess you may as well –" She cuts off, frowning at Megamind's suddenly pale face. "What?"

"And the load is back on," Megamind groans, his head falling forward to clunk gently against Roxanne's. "Well, no. That's not entirely accurate. At least now I have someone I can fight. Anyway, the kidnapping and then the fire and then Wayne stresses me out like you wouldn't _believe_. I'm so on _edge_ around him. And now those two thugs that came after you. I bet Whitehill was behind it. And I have to be on my best behavior for the city, and I've got the brainbots on patrols, but there're still some mixups sometimes. Some of them forget that we're the good guys and end up batting for the other team. Oh, and Bernard. And his girlfriend. And Lady Scott. It's just." He looks helplessly up at Roxanne, shaking his head, and for a moment he looks older than he is – the lines around his mouth and eyes deepen, and he just looks _tired_. "It's too much. It's too much, and I just couldn't handle all of that _and_ you. I'm sorry."

It's Roxanne's turn to blink. "That's all it was?"

Megamind nods, unable to look her in the eye. "Like I said. Stupid."

"That's not stupid." Roxanne half-smiles and shakes her head at him. "That's called biting off more than you can chew, and bottling it up. And getting overwhelmed."

"But I should be able to handle it," Megamind argues. "It's my j-_job_ to handle stuff like that without getting overhwhelmed."

Roxanne tilts her head to the other side, smiling the way that always makes Megamind's heart stutter-stop. "You are the most amazing person I have ever met," she says. "And I've met a lot of people. But you can't do everything. You can try all you want – and you do try – but you have limits. Everybody does."

Megamind scowls. "I do _not_."

"It's a good thing," Roxanne says softly, which makes him blink and pause. "Makes you accessible. Relatable."

Megamind grumbles something under his breath, and Roxanne kisses him.

"And my roommate back in college could have told you horror stories about me and my workload," she murmurs, rubbing her nose absently against Megamind's. "I remember one time, I was up until four in the morning writing this paper that was due the next day and freaking out intermittently because I had no idea what to write about. Like, full-on sobbing and crying freaking out. And the best part? The best part is that the paper was due the _following_ Monday."

Megamind pulls back just a little and looks at her. "Really?" Roxanne nods.

"Another time, me and my partner stayed up 'til six hammering out this massive report we had to do. The class was at nine, and I managed to stay awake through it. But my second class that day was in the same room, with the same professor, so when classes switched I put my head down on my desk. And slept through half of my next class."

Megamind's lips twitch into a reluctant smile.

"That's number one on my list of reasons I love Dr. Kodaly. He let me sleep through half his class before waking me up. And afterwards I went to see him in his office to apologize, but I was overtired and ended up freaking out all over _him_. Trust me, sweetie, you aren't the only one who gets overwhelmed and then loses his marbles a little."

Megamind chuckles. "That. Actually helps a lot, thank you. Was Kodaly angry?"

"Not really." Roxanne shrugs sheepishly. "He handed me a box of tissues and told me to go home and go to bed."

Megamind actually laughs at that, and pulls her in close, turning his head to bury his nose in her hair. "Thank you," he whispers, and his arms tighten briefly. Then he draws back.

"Okay," he says, and there's a tiny bit of steel in his voice that hadn't been there before. "Your turn."


	11. Chapter 11

I have a hard time writing Roxanne being introspective. She is a person who goes and _does_ things without really thinking about why. Megamind, now, he overthinks _everything_…but Roxanne just does what she has to in order to get the job done. Which was a lot of why this chapter was so fucking long coming. The first draft was just the return of the angst two-by-four beating both of them about the head. The second draft was me _trying_ to cull the angst but keep the good lines in, but that just was unrealistic and I scrapped it after a couple of days because it read like they were both drugged, going back and forth between rational conversation and ONLY ANGST. Some of those bits might make it into the Deleted Scenes when the series ends; we'll see. _Either way_, this chapter has undergone heavy heavy heavy revisions since its conception, and if I've accidentally repeated a line or something, or words are missing, or the flow is so bad that you think I deleted something I didn't mean to delete, let me know and I'll fix it ASAP.

And so now we have this. I don't own anything in here, really. I guess Mike is mine, but he'll never show up ever. Billy is nowhere _near_ mine, but I couldn't resist. I'm learning that this is a ridiculously small world we live in, and the plausibility of weird coincidences actually happening is increasing in my head. Besides. I'm a fangirl.

Chapter 11! In which Roxanne is bitchy, Megamind stands up for himself, Roxanne is less bitchy, and they both work out a lot of things that might otherwise have been a problem later on. This fic? Is a bullet-dodging fic.

Thank you all for being so incredibly patient. Schoolwork, and tendonitis, and the calculus homework gets collected every day and I have about 7 or 8 tutees for the class I'm TA-ing and I have to have at least 3 hours in the glass lab every week...Life is crazy. My roommate can attest that I spend nearly all of my free time working on Hallows' Eve, but it still takes a _lot_ of time, especially when I'm writing super-emotional scenes.

So…thank you. Thank you all so, so much for being so patient. I already have some of chapter 12 written, because I tore it off the bottom of this one for being so long, so with any luck the next chapter will be up _less_ than a month from now.

*Hugs you*

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

Roxanne grimaces. The other reason she had wanted him to go first was so that if she tried to chicken out, he wouldn't let her. "I promised, didn't I?"

"We had a deal."

"We didn't shake on it?" she tries, but it's half-hearted at best; she knows it's a weak argument. And when Megamind's expression goes flat, she shakes her head. "Okay, okay, I know. I didn't really expect you to cave."

"You don't _want_ me to cave." He scowls and folds his arms over his chest. "If you really wanted me to cave, you would have made me let you off the hook when I was still a mushy blob of guilt. Please stop trying to play with my emotions. I don't appreciate it."

Roxanne nods tiredly. "Okay. You're right, I'm not being fair." She pulls away, scoots back, and Megamind reluctantly lets her go, twisting and taking his boots off so that he can bring his legs up onto the couch without having to worry about the leather – which is tough, admittedly, but he doesn't want to have to worry about it.

He gets the second boot off, it thumps on the floor, and then suddenly there's a weight in his lap and Megamind looks down in surprise at Roxanne's ear.

"Uhh?" he says, and mentally slaps himself. _Are you serious?_ he thinks. _'Uhh.' That's the best you can do? Get it _together, _Megamind!_

Roxanne puts a hand on Megamind's leg, and he sits very still. She's quiet for a long minute, just thinking and brushing her thumb absently back and forth over the leather.

"I'm sorry," she says at last, and okay, _that_ was the last thing he had expected to hear. He had been expecting some sort of tirade like the one she had given him back in August, but it doesn't look like that's going to happen. He isn't sure if he feels like daring to hope, but he can't help it. Maybe it's going to be okay. Maybe the drama is over now? "You were right, you know. I _should_ have told you. I wanted to."

"Yes," he stammers, "yes, you said that."

There aren't very many days that Megamind wishes he hadn't taken his caffeine, but this is one of them. Roxanne had been more articulate earlier, when she had been freaking out, but now that she's calm she's also closed off, and Megamind really wishes he could tell what she's feeling. Carefully, he lays his hand down on her hair. She goes rigid, and Megamind pauses before steeling himself and pressing his fingers flat against her scalp. If he can't read her emotions, maybe he can read her body language.

Okay. What needs to happen, here? He wants to make her understand, but he thinks she might already. Roxanne is very good at understanding him. But he's still learning to understand _her_.

It's still so fragile, this thing they have going between them. It's been growing stronger over the past few months, but right now it is very fragile indeed, and Megamind is all too aware of how close he might be to never having Roxanne's head in his lap again. He leans back and tries to relax, combing his fingers through her hair.

Then he frowns, and does it again. Roxanne doesn't really respond, but…

She gets head-shy when she's vulnerable or scared, but here she's lying with her head _in his_ _lap_. And Roxanne is not an overtly physically demonstrative person, not that Megamind has seen, anyway. Hand-holding aside, she doesn't cuddle very much outside the bedroom when there isn't a reason to.

He's pretty sure she doesn't want to have her head in his lap right now. He's pretty sure she'd rather be somewhere – anywhere – else. He's pretty sure she's making a statement.

But he isn't certain.

"You don't _have_ to do this, you know," he says softly, relenting a little. "If you want to run, run. I won't stop you."

Roxanne rolls her eyes. "I'm not going to run. Don't be ridiculous."

"But being ridiculous is what I _do_," Megamind replies, and Roxanne half-smiles.

"And you do it so well."

"My whole career has been based around my being ridiculous; I'm certainly not going to stop _now_," he reminds her, and then adds, "Besides. I know you want to. You _don't_ want to do this; I can tell."

Roxanne sniffs. He's right, of course, but that doesn't mean she's going to move. She's actually very comfortable where she is. "Well, of course I don't _want_ to," she mutters. "That's the _point_. But I have to. Sometimes, you have to do things you don't want to."

"Why?"

The seconds tick by. The brainbots _thaum_ quietly in the background, and under everything, the steady rise-and-fall hum of the reactors carries on its endless repetitive harmony. Roxanne focuses on it. She doesn't know much about music, she can't identify the intervals. She wishes she could. _It goes like this: the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift_—

"Roxanne?"

—_The baffled king composing hallelujah_. "Because that's what love is," she tells him, closing her eyes. "It's—it's doing things you don't want to do sometimes because there are more important things than what you want. That's what love is. And I love you."

Megamind sifts his fingers through her hair again, and the sensation sends little tingles down Roxanne's spine. She's relaxing a little bit, but as soon as she realizes that's what she's doing, she tenses up again. Damn.

It strikes her, suddenly, how strange a picture they must be: her, lying on the couch with her head in his lap, his hand on her head. It's a pity Megamind refuses to look into time machines; she almost wishes she could take a photograph of the two of them like this and send it back somehow to five years ago and see how she reacts. Reacted? Will have reacted? _How do you talk about the past in the future tense, anyway? Will would have reacted?_

_And can we please stay on track, here?_

"Listen, I…it's very simple, it really is," Roxanne murmurs. "I have problems accepting help from people. I don't like doing it. I've been getting rescued all my life and I'm sick of feeling like I have no control over what happens to me."

"Accepting help, or asking for it?" Megamind wants to know. Roxanne can hear him frowning. "Because I've seen you _accept_ help. I don't think I've ever seen you ask for help, though. Apart from, you know. Titan."

Roxanne sighs. Her hand tightens on his leg. "I didn't like doing that. But it wasn't just for me, you know, it was the city and everything else, too."

"And you knew that telling me you needed me was the best way to get me moving."

"Oh, god, don't say _that_," she groans. "It makes me sound so manipulative."

"Roxanne, be honest," Megamind says, and something in his voice catches her attention. Some pensive, doubtful undertone. "Please. For once, please don't worry about hurting me, and tell me – do you have a problem with talking to me?" He pauses, then clarifies, "You know, about…sensitive things. Like this, like we are now."

_Oh, fuck_. Roxanne grits her teeth and shuts her eyes. _No_, she wants to say, _I don't have a problem at all_, but then she would be lying—but she can't very well say _Yes_, either, because then she'll be admitting something she really doesn't want to admit. Something she's been refusing to admit for a very, very long time.

"That's a yes, then." Megamind lets out a quiet puff of a sigh, and Roxanne remembers where she is and that he probably can feel when she clenches her jaw.

"It's nothing personal, I swear," Roxanne says, because really, what else can she say? _How do I even explain this?_ Megamind starts to say something, she can tell from the way he takes a breath and she cuts him off. "No, just, give me a minute. Hang on. Let me _think_."

Frustrated, Megamind drops what he had been going to say. He knows she's trying, but it doesn't feel like she is. _Talk, will you just _talk _to me?_ he wants to say, but of course she's just told him there's a problem with that. And how, _how_ is he not supposed to take that personally?

Finally Roxanne swallows. "I'm a proud woman." Megamind starts to scoff, but Roxanne cuts him off sharply. "No, I mean it. I am. Very proud."

Megamind frowns. If she's serious… "Okay, well, that's…understandable? You should be, I mean, you've done a lot of great things, and—"

"_No_," she snaps. She sits up and faces him, scowling as she pushes her hair out of her face. "No, I haven't, and that's not what I mean. I mean I worry a lot about what people think of me."

Well, now he's more baffled than ever. "What?" he says, drawing back a little. "No you don't. You keep _saying_ you don't. I can think of fif…no, _six_teen separate occasions where you have said, specifically, that you don't care what people think." He stares at her. Inconsistencies he can understand; few humans have his capacity for memory and Megamind has learned to tolerate that, but direct contradictions? It doesn't make sense. Especially because Roxanne is one of the few humans who actually can keep pace with him some of the time. That kind of slip isn't like her. "I can give you quotes, if you want. Dates. And, and context?"

Roxanne massages her eyes with her thumb and forefinger, then pinches the bridge of her nose. "Relationship 101, Megs. People don't like it when you use your super-brain to win arguments."

"But I'm _right_," he insists, "I _know_ I am. And even if I _didn't_ remember everything, it still wouldn't make sense! If you cared what your mother thought, you wouldn't be with me."

Roxanne mutters something under her breath, then holds up a hand. "Okay, okay, look, just…shut up."

"_No_," Megamind exclaims. He elbows the high back of the sofa in frustration; he knows it's childish but he can't help it. "I _won't_ shut up! I'm _confused!_ You've told me time and again that you don't care what people think about you, but now here you are saying you _worry_, what, I just don't—"

"_I meant people who aren't YOU!_" Roxanne snarls, and Megamind shuts up and shrinks back into the couch, wide-eyed. Roxanne's blue eyes have taken on the grey cast they tend to get when she's angry, and she's glaring and red-faced and _yelling_, actually yelling. "I _don't_ care what _they_ think! Why would I care what _they_ think? They're. not. you!" She slams her hands down flat on her thighs, and Megamind jumps. Roxanne doesn't appear to notice; she's off again, gesturing wildly. "If I want to be with you, and you want to be with me, well _fuck_, Megamind, let them think whatever the hell they _wanna_ think because you're smart and funny and nice and just generally amazing, and I'm not stupid, I know how fucking _rare_ guys like you are, and I'm not going to give that up just because the _public_ thinks you're a _freak!_"

Megamind rallies. He's never backed down when he's known he's right, and he's not going to start now, even if he is a little bit scared. "But you _just said_ you worried about what people think of you!"

"_Because it was easier than saying I worry about what YOU think of me!_" And then Roxanne freezes. The red in her face drains out and leaves her pale, and then she groans and _wilts_, sort of; just flops bonelessly backward and throws an arm over her eyes. "Oh, _great_," she mutters. "Open mouth, insert foot."

Megamind sits where he is, stunned. "You…" he says, then shakes his head. "You care what I think?"

Roxanne makes a sweeping _there-you-go_ motion with one hand, rubbing her eyes with the other.

"But _why?_"

Roxanne lifts her head and sends him what has to be one of the most insultingly scornful stares he's ever received. It's one he used to get a lot back in school: the _what-the-hell-are-you-smoking_ face. He hates that face.

"Seriously?"

Megamind stares at her and gives a little shrug.

"You care about what I think of _you_, don't you?" she asks him, and if he hadn't known better, he'd have said she was sneering.

"Of course I do!" he exclaims, indignant. "I _love_ you! And don't—don't you take that tone with me," he warns, because he's really fighting the urge to just get up and leave. He strongly suspects that _both_ of them on the defensive will not be pretty. "You're _mocking_ me."

"I am _not_," she starts, then abruptly cuts off when Megamind clenches his whole upper body in violent rejection of her denial.

"You _are_," he tells her flatly. Standing up to Roxanne makes him feel lightheaded and sick, especially because she's already angry, but he really does not deserve the snide tone and derisive posture and he remembers what she had said about wanting someone to fight with her. "You are, whether you realize it or not. You're being _cruel_. Stop it. I am not _attacking_ you, I am _not_ the bad guy here. Stop acting like I am."

Roxanne's nostrils flare, and for one terrible moment Megamind is sure she's going to fight him, but then she blinks and backs down, looks away. "Sorry," she mutters. She doesn't _sound_ sorry, but it's a step.

Megamind blinks too and nods jerkily. "It's—fine. I just. I don't understand. You, you've always said…I mean…" He stammers his way into silence.

"Like I said," Roxanne says, without looking at him. "I'm very proud. Of course I worry about what you think. But you really think I wanted you to know that?"

Everything she's said during the past two minutes comes crashing back through Megamind's head, but two statements really stand out. _I've been getting rescued all my life. I worry about what you think of me_. And she's so defensive, like she's trying to pull his attention away from something. He doubts she's doing it consciously, but…

"Roxanne, do you think—do you think I think you're weak?" His voice is higher than it usually is, but he's passed so far beyond comprehension that pretty much everything is a question now. "Is that what you think? That, that I'll think you can't take care of yourself if you ask me for help or admit that bad things have happened to you or tell me you're worried? Is _that_ why—" His eyes go wide. Roxanne is staring at him, pale. "It _is!_ _That's_ why you cry on Wayne and not me! It's not because you _don't_ care about what he thinks, it's because you care _more_ about what _I_ think!"

And then, of course, he realizes what he's just said, and slumps. "_Picsába_," he groans. "_Már megint elbasztam_."

Roxanne opens her mouth to respond, then pauses. "That was…"

"Hungarian." He scrubs his hands over his face. "Roxanne, I'm _such_ an idiot. I messed it up again."

She sits up quickly enough to startle him. "No. Stop right there. Uh, h…_hülye?_" Then, when Megamind's mouth falls open, she jumps a little and shakes her head. "No no, that's not right. Um." She thinks for a moment and then looks up, her face lighting with short-lived excitement. "Oh! _Kuss!_"

Megamind blinks again. "Are you…trying to tell me to shut up? Because _s_ is pronounced _sh_, remember. Pronouncing that with a sibilant means 'kiss,' in German, and I really don't think…"

"Koosh," Roxanne says. "_Kuss, hülye_." Megamind's lips twitch, but Roxanne plows ahead. "You shut up. No. You didn't mess anything up, okay? None of this was your fault. This is all on me."

"But I kept misinterpreting—"

"I wanted you to misinterpret. I still sort of do. Keep…keep bringing me down, okay?" She slouches forward, scrubbing both hands through her hair. "If I get up on my high horse again? I'm not very good at staying grounded when I'm like this." Megamind just watches her, desperately tries to read the flickers of thoughts chasing each other across her face. "I just…I'm going to take things the wrong way," she tells him, and he hears the warning note in her voice and makes a note of it. "I'm going to twist your words around and try to hurt you with them. So you know. I'm sorry. That's how I get when I'm angry and—and scared, I—"

She looks around, anywhere and everywhere but at him, blinking rapidly, and licks her lips. She opens her mouth to continue, but nothing comes out. Megamind reaches forward and takes her hand, threading their fingers together, and after a moment, Roxanne's fingers tighten around his. "Keep doing that." She swallows. "Keep reminding me who I'm talking to, okay? You're not—you're not anything like what I'm used to.

"I'm not an especially nice person, you know, when I'm upset. I say things – I don't like feeling this exposed. It's like you're going through and systematically tearing down all of my walls." She gulps again, fighting to keep her voice even. "They exist for a reason, you know; I'm not…" She presses her lips together and tips her head back, stares helplessly up at the ceiling. "You're not the only one with insecurities. And you're certainly not the only one who worries about screwing up. Why do you think I get all weird and nervous whenever the PHED comes up in conversation?"

Megamind tries not to gape at her. Roxanne gets nervous? Roxanne doesn't know what she's doing? The mind boggles. "I—I keep telling you, you don't have to worry about that—"

"Yes, just like you don't need to worry about Chadwick-fucking-Whitehill." Roxanne drops her head again and tugs her hand away so she can cross her arms over her chest, then turns to stare pensively out into the Lair. "But we're shaped by our experiences. For better or for worse, really. The PHED taught you…what, to be wary, to cover all your bases? And I imagine they're responsible for a lot of the whole 'I'm an alien, nobody will ever love me' thing you've got eating at you."

Megamind manages to close his mouth with an effort. He clears his throat, hoping she'll let this go and not do that thing where she tries to convince him. "Maybe. A bit. Yes."

To his relief, Roxanne just nods. "Well…Peter taught me not to trust myself. Michael taught me not to trust him. Chad taught me not to trust him _or_ myself. And it's not fair to think you'll be like them, that's not fair at all considering all you've done for me, but things have been going so _wrong_ lately and I keep remembering what they were like and forgetting that you're _you_ and…

"Fuck it," she says abruptly, and Megamind blinks. Roxanne doesn't swear very often, and very rarely in that particular tone of voice. She sits up straight, presses two fingers to her forehead and scrunches up her face in frustration. "Fuck. Fuck it. _Argh_. No. I've had enough. We're hashing this out _now_ and I'm going to be _articulate_ and I'm going to be…_not_ a total moron. I'm going to be _calm_. This is _you_ I'm talking to," she snaps, opening her eyes and pointing at him. "You _aren't_ Peter, you _aren't_ Chad, you _aren't_ Mike or Billy or Paul. You're _Megamind_. You are sweet and funny and cute and I love you and I really, _really_ don't deserve you, but here we are, and we're hashing this out _now_. Okay."

She takes a deep breath and looks at him for a long moment. Megamind stares back.

Then Roxanne's lips twitch with reluctant amusement. "Now if I could just figure out how to _start_, we could actually get this show on the road."

Megamind snorts. "Things you think but don't say?" he suggests. "Um…may I make a conjecture?"

Roxanne half-smiles and digs her toes into the couch cushions, which is a good sign. "Go ahead. Conject away."

"You don't trust your own judgment. True or false?"

That takes the smile right off her face. She doesn't answer, and she stops moving her feet.

"I mean, come on." Megamind's statement had come out of the blue, as he had expected it to. He had been trying to catch her off her guard, and it had worked. "Hal. Titan. Chad. Bernard. Probably your father, too, to some extent. You haven't really had a good run of trusting people, have you? But you keep trying to see the good in people. Titan hit _that_ nail on the head, I know that. I think you _want_ to trust people, which is surprising, given your track record. I think you're a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for."

Roxanne bites her lip. "You're wrong," she says. "I'm not strong at all. But I'm supposed to be. And that's a really good place to start, thank you." She can hear her voice getting unsteady, and as soon as she realizes that, the words won't come anymore. _Crap_, she thinks again, and looks around, searching desperately for something to focus on.

Suddenly there are hands covering her own, and she jumps and looks up.

"Look," Megamind says. "Look at me." It isn't a command, it's an offer – _If you need something to look at, look at this_.

From anyone else, such an offer would have been merely nice, but this is Megamind. Coming from him, 'look at me' is monumental. He doesn't like it when people look at him. He tolerates Roxanne looking at him, of course, but if she does it for too long he gets self-conscious and stammery—that he's _offering_ to let her look at him speaks volumes.

So Roxanne looks at Megamind, at his crazy-green eyes, worried even though his voice is calm. The random flashes of gold that only show in certain lights are muted now but still visible if she really looks for them. Black goatee, black eyebrows, impeccably neat. High cheekbones, pointed chin, long nose. Blue skin, different shades depending on the light and what he's wearing.

Four months, but he's already so familiar. Roxanne focuses on him. "I," she gets out, and the words follow.

"I've trusted a lot of people, and I've been let down a lot of times. I've made a lot of bad decisions. But I trust _you_ completely, and that worries me sometimes, because you're right, I _don't_ trust my own judgment. We've only been together for four months! I should not feel this way about you so soon. And usually, it's a total non-issue. Usually I am totally fine with trusting you, I just don't think about it and everything is fine. But these past couple of days have been…hard."

She wants to curl up again but forces herself to sit still. God, why is she _telling_ him this? He doesn't need to hear this, and she doesn't want any sympathy. He's going to think she's pathetic.

"I haven't spent much time around Wayne recently, and seeing him like that…it hit me, kind of, that everything is changing. And Lord Scott is dead. I still almost can't believe it. I _knew_ him. And you, saving that kid, that was amazing. I would have just walked away and let the police deal with it, but you…I had to go home, and then Minion was worrying, and it kept getting later and later and the two of you weren't back, and…I realized how much I really, really do not want to lose you. And I hate…I hate feeling like my happiness is dependent on another person, but I was so scared."

She bites her lip and looks down at her hands. "And. And so there's this little part of my mind that keeps telling me to just get out now while I still can, it keeps saying, _Roxie, what are you thinking? Have you lost your mind? He'll let you down, he'll hurt you, you're better off alone_." She stops. But this time she pushes the words out – it's getting easier. "But I know that little voice is stupid and wrong. I know it is, because I trust you. But I don't…I don't trust that I trust you, I guess? Does that make sense? Which is, of course, another level of silly, but I can't help it, and it's just this, this endless cycle of recursive _stupid!_"

She lets out a harsh breath and squints. "And I kept thinking. If something happened to you. Heck, even if we broke up. It'd just be me again, on my own, and—I liked being single! I really did! But I like being with you more. And if, if I ever lost you, for whatever reason, if you left me or got hurt or whatever, I don't care – would I lose Minion, too? I love you, but—I love him too." Megamind's mouth falls open and his eyebrows fly to their maximum height in shock. "Not the same way I love you," Roxanne says, shaking her head, "but I love both of you so much that I can't wrap my head around it sometimes. I don't want to lose _either_ of you. And I don't know if that's okay. I don't know if any of it is okay. Maybe that's what has me so confused."

She sniffs miserably and rubs her eyes, wipes the moisture on her pants. Megamind's eyes are still very wide, but he swallows and squeezes her hands. "Why couldn't you just _tell_ me that?"

"Because," Roxanne says again. She's quiet for a moment. "Because I don't want you to worry about me. Because I can work through this on my own. Because it really doesn't matter!" she exclaims. "It's how I feel. I can't change that, at this point. All I need to do is convince myself that what I feel is okay! And that shouldn't be your problem."

Megamind ducks his head and looks at her. "Is that what you really think, or what you tell yourself?"

Roxanne winces. "A little of both," she admits reluctantly. "I also really, really don't want to lose your respect. I'm supposed to be the strong one, remember? I worry about what'll happen if you ever realize how uncertain I am about things." Megamind opens his mouth, but Roxanne hurriedly continues, "Also. The little voice in the back of my head?" She glances up at Megamind. "It sounds a lot like my mom. And that is the _worst_, because every time I get off the phone, I'm sitting there going, _what if she's right? What if this really is too good to be true?_ And then." She squeezes her eyes closed, feels something cold and wet trickle down the sides of her nose. "Then I look at _you_. At that silly, happy smile. And I feel like the worst person in the world for ever doubting you."

She opens her eyes again. "I've fallen in love with you, Megamind. As strange and cheesy as it sounds, somewhere along the line, I have fallen hopelessly in love with you. And I hope you understand what that means. I hate – I _hate_ – telling people all these things because it means I trust them, and it means I've given them a lot of power over me."

Megamind blinks furiously and shakes his head. "You don't have to worry," he says hoarsely, "I wouldn't hurt you. I couldn't. And if you – if you ever have doubts, or questions, or worries about…you know, _us?_ Please, please tell me. I want to know. We _have_ to talk to each other. I might not have a lot of experience, but I know that if we can't do that, we can't do anything. If we can't do that, it's all just a sham."

"I know," Roxanne replies. "I know it is. I'm sorry. I just, I've gotten so used to keeping to myself…"

Megamind just _looks_ at her, and she can't bring herself to maintain eye contact any longer. "When I'm…mad?" She glances up at him long enough to see him nod. "When I'm mad, I say exactly what I know will hurt people the most. I don't _mean_ what I say. It used to be how I'd get my boyfriends to leave me alone when we were having a fight. I got really good at it, because they were just so _passive_ and they _never_ said what they meant, so I'd twist their words around and just…ugh." She shakes her head. "It was bad. I got a lot of bad habits from them, and…I dunno, eventually I just figured I was just better off alone. Being with someone isn't worth all the heartache and trouble. It just wears you out and leaves you feeling like shit when it ends."

"If," Megamind says automatically, and Roxanne looks back at him in surprise. He jumps; evidently he hadn't meant to say anything. "I-I-I. Mean. I'm not—_implying_ anything," he assures her hastily. "But…I think _if_ works better than _when_."

Roxanne nods tiredly. "Actually, that's a lot of my problem, right there. I keep thinking about this like we're going to finish it, someday—like it's a done deal so I should just enjoy it while I can."

"And that's not really the mindset you want to have?" He sounds hopeful, and Roxanne can't help but smile a little as she shakes her head.

"No, it really isn't. Megamind—" She breaks off, suddenly frustrated. There's no way to say what she feels, what she wants. She's not even sure if she _knows_. "I don't want to mess this up, you know? My life is finally going right. It's finally making a little bit of sense, even if I still don't know when I'm finally going to feel like I know what I'm doing."

Megamind shakes his head and holds up his hands. "Okay, whoa, wait. Back up. Since when has your life not made sense?"

She heaves a sigh and slouches, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. "Oh, god. I don't know. Always, I guess? I mean, yeah, I have a great job. I love reporting and I don't want to give it up." She frowns a little. "And I'm not _going_ to give it up any sooner than I have to, but being a reporter takes up a lot of my time, and I know that. Part of the reason I liked being single was that I never had to worry about whether or not I was paying enough attention to somebody.

"But, on the flip side, it also meant that I ended up coming home every night to an empty apartment, heating up some instant noodles, and reading until I fell asleep. It's been a while since I've had someone around to tell me, _it's late, come to bed_. I've sort of missed that. It's…nice," she admits, embarrassed. "And work isn't everything. There's always been something missing."

Megamind blinks. Roxanne is right: she doesn't talk about things very much. Certainly not about things she likes that he does.

"Oh, and I'm thirty-one," Roxanne continues. "I don't know how much longer I'll be able to _be_ a live reporter. For one thing, the public is starting to get bored with me now that I'm not constantly reporting on Metro Man's doings. I'm old news. And more importantly, stations like to put young, pretty women with perfect figures and no wrinkles on the screen. I probably only have a couple of years left. Five, tops."

Megamind scowls. "Ageism is illegal," he mutters, and Roxanne shrugs.

"It also happens. A lot," she points out. "Especially in television and news media, and I won't be able to cover your stories if we stay together. Or even wh—_if_ we break up. Journalistic integrity, and everything, but it means I'm going to be stuck with smaller stories. And I've become accustomed to a certain…well, a standard of excitement that's totally unrealistic for anybody but you and Wayne."

That gets a chuckle, but still, Megamind's heart sinks a little. Journalistic integrity hadn't mattered as much with Metro Man because the public was, quite frankly, totally blind where Metro Man was concerned, but Roxanne-and-Megamind will be a different story. Megamind knows how much Roxanne had enjoyed getting the big stories about Metro City's hero and villain. He opens his mouth to speak, but what Roxanne says next sends his words flying right out of his mind.

"I'm thinking about maybe checking out early and going into teaching or something."

Megamind's head snaps up and he stares at her. "What? Teaching? You?"

"Yeah." Roxanne grins, and her voice takes on a dreamy undertone. _Dreamy? Roxanne daydreams? _ Megamind is floored. "Think about it. First day of class, the students come in and I'm nowhere to be seen, and then there's a bang and a huge cloud of smoke and when it clears, there I am tied to a chair or something with your alligators or that silly Bootwheel of Death, maybe the Pineapple of Doom in some kind of containment field, and you do your evil laugh and I'm all 'yeah, yeah,' just like old times, right? And the first class is how and why you should build up immunity to different kinds of smoke bombs or something." She snuggles into his leg. "I could do a really neat course on reporting on supers and high-profile offworlders. Heck, even just a seminar could be really fun. And you could help me. It would be fan_tastic_."

Megamind has to blink a few times, still waiting for the shock to wear off. "That does sound…fantastic." And it does. Megamind had never really liked his teachers, but he has a lot of respect for the profession—the dissemination of knowledge is something he can really get behind—so the mental image of Roxanne as any kind of teacher is at the same time intensely bizarre and sexy as hell. The two impressions make for a very odd combination.

Roxanne leans against the side of the couch. She's starting to relax a little more. "So that's…a possibility. Or I could write a book – you of all people know I have seen more than enough to fill a book. So I'm not really worried about my career. As much as I love reporting…I'm open to new possibilities." She pauses. "I just don't want to be _bored_. That's the main thing. I hate being bored. That's why I've always spent so much time at work! Reporting doesn't _have_ to take up as much of my time as it currently does. I just haven't had anything exciting to come home to in a really long time.

"Which is another point in your favor, by the way," she adds, peering up at him again. "I haven't been bored much since I met you. You've always managed to pop up with some ridiculous scheme or other and give me a boost. And I was kind of worried, at first, that you wouldn't be as interesting in private as you used to be in public, but it turns out you're _more_ interesting. I never know what you're going to be doing when I come home. Not to mention you're a total sweetheart."

There it is again. Roxanne _never_ says things like that. She tells him she loves him, calls him normal pet names like 'hon' and 'sweetie' sometimes, but that's as far as she goes. She never uses descriptors. A total sweetheart? Him? Since when?

The silence between them is less tense and more companionable, this time, despite the fact that Megamind is now completely boggled.

Roxanne worries about what he thinks of her. She's thinking about going into teaching if reporting doesn't work out. She worries about losing him. She worries about losing _Minion_. She loves Minion? That's something he'd never expected. She gets mean when she's upset. She feels like she doesn't know what she's doing with her life. She loves him. She doesn't want to lose him. She has a fatalistic view of relationships.

Well, _that_ could explain the way she had reacted during that fiasco back in August. She'd been so angry at him jeopardizing their relationship because he had thought she would fall out of love with him someday, but she had come back to prove him wrong. And also, maybe, to prove herself wrong?

But that's not what keeps pounding through his head, and he clears his throat. "Uhm. When you. When you say you love Minion…what, exactly, do you mean?"

Roxanne groans and slumps forward into his lap again. "I don't know. I just…I was thinking about it, and I realized that's what it was. It's not romantic, or anything. Think of it like…really, really good friend love?"

Megamind frowns. "Like with Jo?"

"N…not exactly." Roxanne sighs and scowls. "I can't really explain it. But. I want him to be happy, and I think if I ever saw somebody being mean to him I'd want to hurt them. A lot." She thinks for a minute. "Think about it this way: Minion is family. And you don't hurt my family."

Megamind nods. That, he can absolutely understand. It's how he feels about his uncles, to some extent. "Ah. That makes sense. Sorry, you just…you caught me off-guard."

"No, it's okay. It caught me kind of off-guard, too." She pauses again, then looks up at him. "You know, I don't think I've ever talked this much to anyone else?"

Megamind blinks. "Not even Peter?"

Roxanne laughs. "Are you kidding? I couldn't say this to Peter. I couldn't say anything to Peter; I was so paranoid about trying to figure out what he wanted. No, the only other one I _might_ have been able to talk to was Billy. That was actually a healthy relationship." She sighs. "We ended it after just a couple of weeks, unfortunately. Mutual agreement. We were just incompatible."

"Really?" The idea that Roxanne might be incompatible with anyone is still completely unbelievable to Megamind. "How?"

Roxanne presses her lips together for a moment, then starts laughing. "Because he wanted to rule the world," she admits, between breaths of laughter. "He couldn't see any good in people, and I…tried to see the good in everybody."

Megamind sits up straight. "Wait, wait, wait. Was this a sort of blonde-ish guy? Thin smile, square jaw? Studied a lot of astrophysics?"

Roxanne squints up at him. "I don't know about astro, his major had 'quantum' in it twice, but…yeah, that sounds about right. Why? Do you know him?"

Megamind bursts out laughing. "Roxanne, you—oh, man, you really know how to pick them. I met him at a convention a couple years ago. He's a supervillain now."

She sits up and twists around, incredulity painted all over her face. "_Really?_"

Megamind nods. "Pretty successful one, too. Last I heard, he'd made it into some kind of local syndicate."

"Huh," Roxanne says, for lack of anything better to say. "Wow. So are all villains secretly nice guys, then, or am I just lucky?"

Megamind half-smiles. "I'm not all that nice," he says. "Seriously, though. How does a smart woman like you pick so many weird guys?"

Roxanne bristles a little. "Peter wasn't weird," she protests.

"Seems to me like he was. I've never heard of anyone behaving like that in a relationship before." He pauses. "Besides, I'm not really talking about Peter.

Roxanne groans. "You're talking about Chad. Do I _really_ have to talk about Chad?"

"I sincerely wish you would."

"Muhhh," she sighs. "Okay. What do you want to know?"

He doesn't want to ask for a list of things Chad had done to her, unless it's to give to his uncle Guduza. He'd know the right people, he'd be able to find a way to make Chad pay.

But Megamind suspects that probably isn't what Roxanne wants, and anyway he had heard what she had screamed at her mother on the phone. So he shrugs. "Whatever you want to tell me, I guess."

"Okay, look, I told you – I don't talk about things. You're going to have to give me something to go on or I won't know where to start." She doesn't sound angry or upset at his lack of specifications, which is heartening. Mostly she just sounds tired.

"Why did you stay with him?" Megamind doesn't have to really think about what he wants to know; he's always thinking about things he wants to know. "If he was hurting you for so long. Why stay?"

"He wasn't always like that, you know. Hang on a minute. Can we sit a different way?"

Megamind shrugs. Roxanne sits up, then indicates he should sit at an angle, braced in the corner made where the back of the couch met the arm-rest.

Megamind has a better idea. That end of the sofa is actually a recliner. He pulls it out and raises his eyebrows.

"Actually, yeah, that'd work better," Roxanne admits, so Megamind sits in the corner with his legs up and she crawls in against him, sits up against his side with his arm around her waist, her legs curled under her. They aren't lying down – just sitting, but they're both vertical now and Megamind has to admit that this is more comfortable. His leg had been falling asleep with her lying on it.

"So he wasn't always like that," he prompts after she settles down, and she nods.

"Yeah. He actually used to be pretty nice. He had a great sense of romance – he was dramatic, brought me roses on our third date and said they were just pink because he didn't want to push me into anything, but if I cared to stay with him for a while he might bring red ones home someday. Stuff like that. He was really low-key about things in the beginning. And after a run of guys who _never_ communicated, he was a breath of fresh air. I fell for him pretty hard."

Megamind frowns. "I guess I can understand that," he admits reluctantly, and at the same time makes a mental note to avoid roses. Shouldn't be too much of a problem; they give him a headache. "But later—"

"Later I kept remembering how he used to be. He only really got bad after I moved in with him. And he was still really sweet, sometimes. If we fought or something, and I was seriously considering leaving him, he'd come home and…I don't know, say something or do something and it would just be so _nice_, and I couldn't…" Roxanne makes a frustrated gesture with one hand. "It started because I was spending more and more time at the office, away from home. The longer I stayed away, the worse he got, but I needed my space and he swore he understood that, really he did; he just had a temper and he lost focus sometimes, he was sorry he was selfish, he just loved me so much…" She shakes her head. "Stuff like that."

"And you never told anybody? Not even Wayne?"

Roxanne shakes her head. "No. Afterwards, a couple of people, but…no, I don't think I ever did tell Wayne. He and I weren't really friends, at the time. This was years before we started telling people we were together. I barely knew him!"

"But he was a hero. Surely he could have helped."

Roxanne snorts. "I didn't want a hero. I wanted to save myself. I had my pride – at that point, it was all I had, and it was pretty bruised when we finally separated."

Megamind's mouth quirks into half a smile. "Pun intended?"

"Oh god, absolutely," she laughs, then pauses and cranes her neck to look up at him. "Thanks, by the way. For not treating me like some sort of china doll over this."

Megamind shrugs again. "You've made your point, I think," he reminds her. "You don't want to be handled with kid gloves. You aren't some fragile toy on a shelf. I figured _that_ out years ago." Then he frowns. "So you never told anybody?"

Roxanne sighs and shakes her head. "Don't," she says, "don't ever think I didn't want to tell you. I _did_ want to. Even when you were Bernard, I knew I _should_ say something. But I didn't know _how_, and there are some guys who, even if I said, 'hey, this happened but it was like eight years ago and I'm really okay now,' would still only hear 'abuse victim!' and run away screaming."

"And you thought I would be like that?"

"_No_," Roxanne exclaims, then reconsiders. "Well. I _hoped_ you wouldn't be. But I was scared. One of my girlfriends, Trish, she just sort of stopped talking to me after it happened. I cornered her, asked what was going on, and she said that she'd already had to deal with one friend who had been abused and wasn't looking to go through that with another. All the trust issues and drama. We never spoke again, and after that, I didn't tell anybody. I couldn't. Every time I tried, I kept…I kept thinking they would pack up and leave."

"You told Jo."

Roxanne laughs at that, and Megamind peers at her. "I didn't. She suspected something was up; she had for a while, and then you started kidnapping me but I really wasn't acting like a normal victim – she asked me a couple of times what was wrong but I wouldn't tell her. I mean, how do you tell someone that the kidnappings mean you'll be safe for little while?" Megamind's arm tightens almost imperceptibly around her waist, and she tucks her arm over his in response. "They were the only valid excuse I had to stay away from Chad, by that point. I would come home and he was always angry at _you_. Not me. And always for putting me in danger, he claimed, because he 'still cared.'

"Jo always let the matter drop. She doesn't do that anymore, and I think it might be my fault. But when Chad threw me out, after that eleventh time, Jo was on her way upstairs to make sure I was all right. That was the third time it had been televised live, and the first time you had used fire, and Wayne had made kind of a show in front of the cameras, checking to see if I was all right."

Megamind's free hand twitches but stays where it is. Roxanne picks it up – she isn't sure, but she thinks he might be trying not to cling. She doesn't mind, though. Really, she doesn't.

"Anyway, I guess when your friend comes rolling down a flight of stairs and her massive boyfriend is standing at the top, yelling at her, you sort of put two and two together. I might have run back upstairs if Jo hadn't grabbed me and dragged me after her. I was so angry at her then, but now I think I might owe her my life. I've never seen Chad so angry. And even if he had calmed down eventually, there would always have been next time. He had asked me about Wayne a couple of times before that, so I knew it would only escalate.

"So Jo hauled me back to her place and got Peter on the phone as soon as we got there. He and I had mostly fallen out of touch, but he'd graduated from law school by then and was practicing, and Jo knew it. She originally wanted to get someone more experienced, but I put my foot down, said I didn't want this going any further than it had to."

She sighs and shakes her head. "God. _Peter_. I owe him so much. He did all the paperwork, got everything we needed. Helped me take out a restraining order. I've always heard that can be a real pain, but Peter took care of everything, all I had to do was sign some forms and it was done. And when Chad was arrested, three years later, Peter was there again. Back in town on some kind of business function, he told me, but I never did find out what it was. He was the one who made sure I wouldn't have to take the stand or make a statement or whatever you call it – I wouldn't have to go up in front of a bunch of people and say 'this is what happened, this is what he did.'" Then she frowns and looks down at Megamind's hand, which has tightened rather a lot since she picked it up. "You okay?"

Megamind's eyes are distant. "I'll – explain in a minute. I just…is there anything more that you particularly want to tell me?"

"Not really. No. I'll tell you everything, though, if you really want me to; I…I guess I don't mind so much." She's a little surprised to find that this is true. "Why? What's up?"

"Roxanne, I—" His expression turns halfway pained. "Do you understand why I got so upset earlier?"

Roxanne frowns harder. "You already explained. There's too much going on, and—" She winces. "Can we _not_ squeeze the bones in my hand until they turn into chicken salad?"

Megamind jerks his hand back as if he's been burned. "Sorry!"

"Oh for—it's _fine_, just don't hold on so hard, okay?" Shaking her head, Roxanne snatches his hand back and brushes her thumb over the cool skin under his wrist, a little gesture she had picked up from him. "All right, what, then? Next you're going to tell me that was only half of it, right? Because I should tell you the things I think about, and communicate, right?"

Megamind's lips thin and he shakes his head. "Well…yes. Some. But that's not why I…I mean, I lost _control_ earlier because there was too much for me to handle, but that's not why I was upset. But I don't want you to dee-vulge _all_ of your personal information; that's not what I'm asking for."

Roxanne blinks. "It isn't?"

"_No!_" Megamind gapes at her for a moment, then shuts his eyes for a second and shakes his head. "Okay, all right. Here's an example. Say, _hypothetically_, that you found out that I tried to commit suicide when I was fifteen. I didn't tell you this. Maybe my notes were lying open and you glanced down and saw them, maybe somebody else who knew about it mentioned it to you. Would you be angry with me for not telling you?"

Roxanne recoils. "Of _course_ not!"

Megamind lifts an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Really!" Roxanne stares at him, uncomprehending. "That's personal. I mean _really_ personal. That's not something you just come out and say to people. I mean, unless you have…triggers that I might…oh." Comprehension dawns. Megamind seizes it and drags it further into the light.

"_Right!_ And this, this _thing_ is very personal to you. On a deep level. Any idiot with a brain can see that. But it's the same thing as me convincing myself that you're not going to randomly up and leave me. I can deal with that on my own! I _am_ dealing with that on my own. But, Roxanne…" He struggles for a minute. "You were upset because that's something that affects you that I didn't tell you about, and I ended up nearly driving you away because of it. And the whole abuse thing is something that affects _me_."

"But it _doesn't_," Roxanne starts to say, but Megamind gives her hand another squeeze, gentler this time.

"Yes. It does. You've obviously got really good control of this, you've obviously moved on with your life, but when you're emotionally strung-out and tired and not really feeling your best, it can come to the fore. _I get that_. It's like me and the whole PHED thing, remember that? You said something totally innocent, and I had to leave the room for a few minutes." He shrugs expansively, eyes wide. "It's a non-issue, it _really_ is, I am _really_ fine but it is something that does still affect me from time to time and therefore it affects you by extension. I mean…like I said before, what if I lost my temper someday and hit you? It would be blindingly stupid of me and I would _never_, ever—but what if? You'd spook, and run for the hills. You know you would; you know I'm right."

Roxanne pulls back a little and turns, her eyes searching his face. "I'd…I'd forgive you, I mean, people do…stupid things."

"But you'd never trust me again." It isn't a question, and Roxanne looks away. "You wouldn't be able to push the possibility that it might happen again out of your mind, and you wouldn't be able to trust me anymore. The decision to trust isn't really a decision, Roxanne, and you know it. You don't have to tell me _why_, you don't have to give me every tiny detail, but I do want you to tell me if there's something I'm doing that's not okay. It's what you want me to do. All I want is the same consideration! I need to know what stakes I'm playing." He tilts his head, scanning her face. "Does that make sense?"

Roxanne nods. "I think so. Thank you."

Megamind smiles a little. "Everybody has things they don't want to talk about. Someday, I'm sure we'll be comfortable enough with each other that we won't have to worry about it, but…there are things about me that I haven't told you. And I will, someday, but those are all things that you really and truly do not _need_ to know, that I don't _want_ you to know at this point in time." He breaks off abruptly, looking suddenly very nervous. "That's okay, right? Is that okay?"

Roxanne smiles. "Of course that's okay. I have some things, too. Probably not as…_exciting_ as yours," and Megamind manages a laugh, "but yeah, me too."

He smiles for real, this time. "Oh, good," he says. "That's a relief to hear."

Then his smile fades. "The other reason I was upset had nothing to do with anything you'd done." He glances away. "Still, I—I think you should know. Chad escaped from prison a couple days ago."


	12. Chapter 12

Finally, a long chapter that _isn't_ all one scene! This one actually jumps around quite a bit, but it's important that it does.

The last bit of this is…well, it's about as dark as I could make it. Roxanne's bad day gets worse, if you can believe it. I dunno if it warrants any trigger warnings, but if you have a problem with corpses, tall buildings, and gravity, or with creeptastic individuals at their creepiest, you should probably stop reading after Wayne leaves. "Let the Bodies Hit the Floor" (c) Drowning Pool, and "It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood" (c) Mr. Rogers. (And, as always, "Megamind" (c) Dreamworks.)

You know, I have always thought that characters are, at least a little bit, extensions of those who write

them. So then I look at Sundown, and I think…what is _wrong_ with me?

Getting close to the end of this section of story. Getting close to the middle of the story that is Cold Fusion. A lot of questions left to answer. A lot of loose ends waiting to be tied down, tied up – tied in general. Fit to be tied, all of them, and they will be, in the end. Memory loss, a brainbot with a distressing capacity for intelligent thought, one kidnapping gone wrong and another gone very right, with no real way to tell which is which…The board is set, the pieces are moving. The real question is, who's moving them? Megamind thinks it's him. Someone else thinks it isn't. Only two people know the truth, but which two? OH THE SUSPENSE. XD

Only one more chapter after this and then radio silence from me for a while, so I can get a buffer ready for Twelve Days. These Hallows' Eve updates are way too far apart.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

There is a silence like shattered glass. Megamind reluctantly looks down at Roxanne, who has, to his surprise, _not_ gone white to the lips.

"Huh," she says into the silence. She looks perfectly calm, but also just a little bit blank. Or maybe he's just reading too much into it. "I should…I should probably get my restraining order renewed."

Megamind blinks worriedly at her, then summons up his very best Evil Laugh, just to be safe. He has raised laughter to an art form, and he knows exactly where to throw his voice so that it rolls around the big room like thunder.

When the last echoes fade away, he turns to find Roxanne staring at him, her expression somewhere between confusion and grudging admiration. "Where the _hell_ do you hide a lung capacity like that in your skinny little body?" she demands, and Megamind grins in worried relief. "I don't get it!"

"Practice," he says, and ordinarily he would sound a little bit smug because that's just who he is, but right now he only sounds nervous. "Listen, I – I don't want you to worry, I didn't _want_ to tell you, but…"

"No, I'm glad you did." Roxanne swallows and nods a few times. "Talk about coincidences, right? Wow." She chuckles. "Bastard always did have a good sense of timing."

Megamind's face scrunches a little, a sign that he's devoting more brainpower than usual to a particular subject. "You're going to be okay," he says. "He's not going to come after you."

"I think he already has," Roxanne replies. "The men this morning—he's the only one I can think of who would send people like that after me." Her gaze narrows, sharpens. "Do you think he's behind all this? The kidnapping? And the fire?"

"I don't know," Megamind admits. Now, _there_ are three words Roxanne doesn't hear very often. "It's possible."

"I wouldn't be surprised at all." Roxanne rests her head, very carefully, on his shoulder. He's so _thin_, she thinks. So narrow. He isn't fragile, she knows that, but he looks it sometimes. "He hates you, Megamind. Like, _seriously_ hates you. I'm pretty sure he wants to kill you."

Megamind laughs. "Well, he'll have to get in line," he tells her, brushing his thumb over the backs of her knuckles. "There are a lot of people who want to see me dead."

Roxanne very carefully does not react to that. "I didn't say he wanted to see you dead," she says evenly, "I said he wants to _kill_ you. And even you aren't immune to bullets and knives."

Megamind doesn't react either. "In that case, he'll have to take a number. I can only field so many assassination attempts at once."

Roxanne's lips twitch despite the subject. "I don't think you're a high enough office for it to be called 'assassination.'"

"Clearly, you haven't seen the people they've been sending after me." Roxanne can hear him grinning, but she can't hear any humor in it, and she is starting to think he isn't joking.

"Wait, how many people have tried to kill you?"

"Twenty," Megamind says, then grimaces. "Although that's an estimate. I only know of four…fifteen." He looks down, frowning. "Sixteen. Counting the one on Halloween."

Roxanne's eyes go wide and she twists around to stare up at him in alarm. "_What one on Halloween?_"

Megamind shrugs. "I was shot at. Was in the process of stealing Maxence back from those…people. I've had all sorts of people come after me, though," he adds quickly, as if he's trying to be comforting. "I'm used to dealing with that. It's sort of become an annual thing."

Roxanne forgets, sometimes, just who he is and who he had used to be. Even more frequently, she forgets how much deeper his plots had run than just the grandiose schemes she had grown accustomed to seeing. There's what he had said about Enron, and counting cards, and collecting rare artifacts to sell later. The land rights, the mineral rights that had been signed over to him 'under duress.' He's a goofball, but he had been a much more sophisticated villain than anyone had realized. He had always known what he was doing.

And he still knows what he's doing, at least to some degree—that much is obvious. _If he's not worried…I guess I'll try not to worry, too_.

She forces her mind to return to the Chad problem. "Anyway," she says slowly, "you know you're not very popular in the prisons, these days. It'd be really easy for Chad to organize something like this. He knows everybody. And he's smarter than a lot of people give him credit for." _It's why I was interested in him in the first place_, she doesn't add.

Megamind looks at her. "You really think it's him? You don't just _want_ it to be him?"

"I would really like it _not_ to be him," Roxanne exclaims. "But these are exactly the sorts of things he'd do if – if he knew it would pull you out into the open." She goes a little pale. "Oh – oh god, do you think he knows about us?"

Megamind shakes his head. "I doubt it. If he hates me as much as you say—well, it's common knowledge that I'm at least a little bit fixated on you. But, no," he realizes, "no, he set those goons on you in the warehouse district. He knew you'd be coming here." His brow furrows. "I suppose he might know about us. There are a few people who do. Sundown, I'm pretty sure."

Roxanne frowns. "You mentioned him before, I think. Would he have told Chad? What's his angle?"

"I have no idea what his angle is, but I very seriously doubt he's responsible for your attempted kidnapping. You met him this morning." Megamind watches her face change. "What did you think of him?"

Roxanne takes a deep breath, lets it out. Remembers wild hair and pale eyes, the eyebrows like two slash marks above them. "I think you're right, I think he's a psychopath. The way he shot those guys…he didn't even blink."

"He very rarely does," Megamind mutters. Then, suddenly, he pulls his free hand away and uses it to tilt Roxanne's chin up so that he can look her in the eyes. "Are you okay?"

She holds very still. He is getting a _lot_ better about physicality between the two of them, but he's usually still shy about doing things like this. "Yes? I think so?"

"It's just, you've had a really bad past day or so. Somebody you had been close to died, you were nearly kidnapped, you saw two people killed in front of you, you met one of the most dangerous men in the city—"

"I'm _dating_ the most dangerous man in the city—"

"_And_ you just learned that your jealous ex has escaped from prison and might be after you. Oh, and you had a screaming fight with your mother _and_ your boyfriend." Megamind's worried gaze flicks back and forth between Roxanne's eyes. "Are you really okay?"

Roxanne smiles at him. _I also just laid a bunch of things that had been bothering me to rest_. "Yes," she tells him, "I really am okay. I promise."

Reluctantly, Megamind drops his hand. "Okay. If you're sure."

"I am," Roxanne insists, already missing the contact and not entirely sure why. She puts her head back down on his shoulder and shifts around a little, shoving herself more firmly against his side. Megamind rubs his hand over her hip in response. "I really am. I…I need to think about it, but yes, I think I'm fine."

Megamind nods. For a moment, they're both quiet.

Then Roxanne chuckles. "Do you know when I first realized that I might love you, a little?"

"The park?" he guesses, remembering a summer day that feels like ages ago "That picnic we had?"

Roxanne smiles. "Not Bernard. _You_. In all your blue, big-brained, spiky glory."

He shakes his head.

"Wayne's Fortress. When you tripped over that stupid fluffy cape because it was too big for you."

Megamind gapes at her, and she laughs. "I don't know, you looked so enthusiastic! So excited. And I just…" Roxanne shrugs, turning a little pink. "I just couldn't figure you out. You were _ridiculous_. And it was right after you'd asked me if I had looked back, so I was already kind of thinking about it, and it was – a shock. Because you tripped and went sprawling and popped right back up again, like nothing at all had happened, ready for another go just like you always do, and…" She shrugs again and grins at him, a little sheepishly. "And then the way you and Wayne handled each other was…totally bizarre. I'd known for ages that _he_ was nothing like his stage persona, but I'd never thought that _you_ could—but then we were outside and you were all, 'no, screw this, I'm done, have a nice life.'"

Megamind looks really confused. "And, somehow, that…made you love me? What?"

"No, that wasn't what made me love you—that was a lot of little things that all came spinning together. But that was when I _realized_. And so I went back down and talked to Wayne for a while, by which I mean I chewed him out for abandoning us, and he seemed to think you were a lot less of a jackass than you acted sometimes, so…I was still pretty conflicted about it."

"Hmm." He frowns, and then he gives a little shrug. "Well, I'm glad you're not conflicted anymore. You aren't, are you?"

Roxanne shakes her head. "Not after today."

Megamind's eyebrows draw together slightly and he ducks his head. "You're sure? I just. I just want to be sure."

Roxanne sighs. "Okay, sometimes…sometimes I worry that I'm losing my mind. Normal people don't fall this hard for people who kidnap them for years and years. I mean, they have a name for that." She doesn't say 'Stockholm Syndrome,' but judging by his silence, he reads her loud and clear. "But I don't think this is what that is. I really don't. This isn't some 'bonded with my kidnapper' thing, this is…Megamind, I _love_ you. Like I said. It's just convincing that little voice in the back of my head that's the problem, but even that's starting to get a lot easier—and after today, I'm feeling a _lot_ better about all this."

"What?" He cranes his head around to look at her. "But—we just had a fight?"

"But I can _talk_ to you. I mean, I've always known that I could, in theory, talk to you," Roxanne says quickly, "but now I _actually can_. It makes a huge difference."

She hadn't realized how good it would feel to finally say all of this. To admit to Megamind that she sometimes has a hard time trusting her decision to trust him. To tell him how much she hates being unable to defend herself, and that other people keep stepping in to save her. To admit that she hates her mother sometimes and that she feels like her life is just passing her by. To admit that she finds the depth of her feelings for him almost insane.

Good god. She's been saying all of this to _Megamind_. Megamind, the cackling evil genius who had hijacked her life and used her in his schemes, who had put her in danger on an almost weekly basis without a second thought, and whose apparent megalomania was second only to his egomania.

Megamind, who had stood there with rain pouring down his face and as good as told her that he loved her. Megamind, who held her and did not judge her when she needed to cry. Megamind, who fixed the city and purified the harbor water and whose underground governance kept the citizens safe from Metro's crime syndicates. Megamind, who rescues children. Megamind, who had all but run to the man who had once been his worst enemy when Wayne had needed him.

"So," Roxanne finally says. "So, are you going to ask me to come live here, or what?"

Megamind blinks. Blinks again. "Wait. You. What?" Roxanne just laughs at him, and his eyes narrow as red floods over his cheeks. "Minion," he mutters. "I will flush him."

"Oh, don't do that," Roxanne says in mock horror. "The poor plumbers would never know what hit them. But yeah, he warned me ages ago that you were thinking about it."

Megamind snorts. "You're evil, you know that?" he says, poking her in the stomach and making her yelp and bat at his hand. Then he sobers. "But, Roxanne, are you sure you _want_ to live here? With me? It's a big step."

"_No_, Megamind, I don't want to live here with _you_, I want to live here with Benjamin Franklin. Look, I spend most of my time here anyway," Roxanne points out. "My lease is paid through next May, but it's a sunk cost and I can afford it."

"I don't want you to do this just to make a statement, or something," Megamind warns.

"Mr. Mind." Roxanne's voice twists with mock-severity, and Megamind raises an eyebrow. Roxanne pauses. "Actually, I bet that's _Dr_. Mind, isn't it?"

Megamind's lips twitch. "Not officially. I collect under assumed names. So…kind of? I guess?"

"Kind of…" She laughs and shakes her head. "Dr. Mind. I am going to tell you something." She sits up and faces him, throwing throws a leg over his narrow thighs and straddling his legs so that she can drape her arms over his shoulders and twist her hands together behind him. He tenses, green eyes searching her face for answers.

"Let me tell you something about kissing, Megamind. I've kissed a lot of boys in my time. A few girls, too. And there are bad kissers and good kissers, and you're a darn good kisser. You learn really fast."

"Quickly," Megamind mumbles, as a high blush crawls across his cheeks. "Th-the word you want is quickly. But thanks."

Roxanne scowls playfully and runs a fingertip across the hollow of his foramen magnum, and Megamind makes a noise that sounds like _ngk_. "Don't correct my grammar when I'm trying to be sexy," Roxanne warns, prodding him in the chest with the index finger of her free hand. "That will not get you laid."

Megamind snorts; he can't help it. He promptly tries to school his features back into a mask of calm expectation, but it doesn't really work because his mouth keeps curling in at the corners, and before he can get hold of himself he dissolves into silent giggles and has to brace his head on Roxanne's shoulder.

"You are _completely useless_," Roxanne grouses. Megamind just laughs harder, folding his arms loosely around her waist. "I don't know why I even bother."

"S-sorry, I'm sorry." It's a good thing she doesn't ask him what's so funny; he's not sure he can explain. He thinks that it has to do with the weird combination of relief and disbelief sparking through his mind.

He and Roxanne have just had a Problem. An actual _Problem_, with yelling and tears and everything, the whole nine yards—and there are couples who wouldn't have been able to move past something like this. But here _they_ are, with all their issues and respective baggage, barely half an hour from Roxanne crying on the couch and Megamind shrieking at Wayne in the hallway, and they've sorted it out _so_ completely that Roxanne is agreeing to move into the Lair. Is almost _asking_ to move in.

For some reason, it all strikes him as being immensely funny.

"Oh, just…come here." Roxanne hauls his head up and kisses him, pulls him in and drags her tongue across his lips, kisses him the way she had on the sidewalk two days ago. The smile he sends her when she pulls back is slightly dazed.

Roxanne's little smile has returned, wider than it had been. "That," she says, "was the sort of kiss Peter used to give me."

Megamind tilts his head curiously. "Is there a point to this, then?"

"I said I wanted to tell you something, didn't I?" Roxanne returns. "Just listen.

"Kissing Peter felt safe. Secure. But also kind of monotonous after a while. He was a good kisser, but he wasn't like you. He wasn't like Chad, either – nobody else was like Chad." She kisses him again, hot and hard, tongue and teeth, until Megamind breaks away, gasping.

"Chad was like fire. He was a good kisser too, but he took." Roxanne licks her lips and shrugs a little, somewhat breathless herself. "And sometimes that was good. Sometimes that was just what I wanted, and you've gotten pretty good at telling what I want. But you don't kiss me like he did. You aren't fire. You don't burn unless you're angry."

She half-smiles and rubs her thumb over Megamind's lower lip, and for some reason, that simple gesture makes his heart crawl into his throat. He isn't sure why, but he has to consciously stop his hands from shaking where he's holding her. _This_, he thinks, _this is what happy is_.

Roxanne doesn't seem to notice—if she does, she refrains from commenting, for which Megamind is eternally grateful. "Which isn't to say you're not exciting," she adds, "just to clarify. And there have been others, too. In between. And they were all fun, in their way, but none of them, not a single one, was like you. Kissing you feels different."

"Didn't—_wouldn't_." Megamind swallows and forces himself to speak steadily. "Wouldn't everyone feel different? A little, I mean? I-I mean, I wouldn't _know_, but I always thought everyone would feel at least a _little_ different."

Roxanne smiles and nods. "Yeah, everyone has their own tone. But…here. I want to try to show you. This is why I want to live with you."

She leans forward to kiss him a third time, and Megamind prepares to hold still and let her do whatever she needs to do to…show him?

The kiss she gives him this time isn't like the two before. It's simple. A short, soft brush of mouth against mouth. It's the sort of kiss she gives him when she comes into the Lair after work, or just before she leaves to go back to work or back to her apartment. It isn't passionate and it isn't sweet; it's just a _kiss_, a hello-goodbye-good-morning kiss, a holding-hands kiss, and Megamind blinks at her, confused.

Roxanne leans her forehead against his and closes her eyes. "Kissing you feels like coming home."

His hands tighten on her waist. "Roxanne," he says, and now he really can't keep the tremor out of his voice, "you are going to make me cry again."

Her head comes up, and he resists the urge to follow. "Oh—I'm sorry—"

He shakes his head, blinking hard. "No. I'm _happy_. I'm so happy that it's making me cry. Is that weird?" He looks at her, suddenly unsure. "That's weird, right?"

_Whoa_. Roxanne stares, momentarily lost for words. _We're going to have to start fooling around with the lights on_, she thinks, _I can't get enough of those eyes_. "No," she stammers, "no, that isn't weird, that's—I'm happy you're happy." The words aren't enough, so she kisses him again, leaning against him and running her hands over the curve of his skull.

_Megamind is happy_. The idea seems much stranger than it should, and Roxanne can only think that, whatever else happens, she wants to be the one who makes him feel like this.

"Your eyes are seriously the most incredible things I think I have ever seen," she mumbles when she finally pulls away. There's an odd rumbling sound coming from somewhere nearby, but she can't put her finger on what it is.

Megamind smiles and brushes his fingers through her hair, then glances to the side. And laughs. "You, um. Okay, this is super-corny, but I swear your eyes and my skin are just about the same color."

"Please tell me you know the hex code."

Megamind blinks at her, smiles wryly. The rumbling is more distinct, now, almost a deep whirr. "I'm not _that_ good."

Roxanne grins. "A boyfriend to match my eyes. I really _am_ the luckiest person on earth." Then she pauses and puts her hands on his shoulders at the base of his neck. Tilts her head and listens.

Then she looks up at him. "Megamind," she says slowly, "are you _purring?_"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Minion isn't really surprised to see that Wayne hasn't left the Lair when he gets back to the kitchen. What makes him pause is that the big ex-hero has his head down on the little kitchen table, huge hands tangled tiredly in his unkempt hair. The ponytail is gone.

Wayne doesn't lift his head when Minion comes in, but he flaps one of his hands in what Minion supposes is meant to be a wave.

"Have you eaten?" Minion asks, his tone brusque and businesslike. "I hear you're allergic to fruit, but I've got some lovely mushrooms and tomatoes and cheese that would go well in an omelette. Any spice allergies?"

"Nuh-uh."

"And green onions?"

"The green parts are good. Not the white."

"Excellent. Omelette it is, then." Minion rattles the pans more than he probably needs to until he finds the one he wants. "What on _earth_ are you still doing here?"

"Thought you said I should stay," Wayne mumbles dully. "But I can go, if you want."

"Oh, don't be a fool," Minion snaps. "If I wanted you to leave, I wouldn't bother making you breakfast. I'm not doing this for _me_, you know. Have you ever tried to eat a soggy omelette? _Eeurgh_. No, I'm only asking to see if it was just because I told you to stay, or if there was something more you wanted."

Wayne doesn't rise to his sniping or his faint attempt at humor. There's a long silence.

Then, out of the clear blue sky—

"Sorry I called you a fish all those times."

Minion is so shocked that he actually _drops an egg_, which he hasn't done in years. Yellow translucence spreads over the tile. "Oh, _shit_," he says, startled into profanity.

Wayne turns his head, lifts a finger to his temple. "I got it."

Minion rounds on him. "You will _not_. You'll scorch the floor."

"Then I'll clean it up," Wayne says, not lowering his hand. "Blue mopped my kitchen. I'll mop his."

"I beg your pardon," Minion says stiffly, "this is _my_ kitchen."

"Fine, then I'll mop _your_ kitchen," Wayne finally snaps back with startling vim. "Pete's sake, would'ja just let me _do_ something?"

Minion sniffs disapprovingly and turns back to the mixing bowl. "As you will, then." There's a crackle, a muffled thump, and the smell of burning eggshells. "Mop's in the closet to your right, opposite the back door." He doesn't hear Wayne get up, but a few seconds later there's a terrible crash and a muffled curse.

Wayne doesn't say much after that, other than, "Dish soap okay?"

"Dish soap is fine."

Minion focuses on the cooking. _Careful not to bruise the mushrooms, hold them lightly; don't crush the tomato, but don't let it slip out of your fingers either. Wait to add the cheese until the eggs have cooked enough to hold, melt it a bit. Scootch the pan around, loosen the egg mass. Add veggies and more cheese to one side. Fold opposite side over_.

"So how are you holding up?" he asks, flipping the semicircle onto its other side so that the new cheese will melt properly.

"Huh?" Wayne responds from where he's putting the mop and bucket away in the closet.

"I said, are you doing okay?" The mop job is sloppy; there's still traces of soap on the floor and a great big puddle that Wayne missed entirely, but Minion doesn't mention it.

Wayne drifts back to his seat and put his head back down on the table. "I dunno what you mean."

Minion presses his lips together and doesn't say, _What do you _think_ I mean?_ "My memory goes as far back as Sir's. I remember what it's like." He looks around at Wayne as he slides the finished omelette onto a chipped china plate. _Dash of paprika. Green onions on top to add crunch. Down on the table, clink it loudly to get his attention_. It's been a long time since Minion has had to deal with moping, and he's a little surprised to find that he's lost a lot of his patience for it. "Here. Hungry or not, you need to eat."

Wayne sits up reluctantly. The steel tumbler from earlier has appeared as if by magic by the plate, steaming invitingly. "How did you know I wasn't actually hungry?"

"You've suffered a massive shock and it hasn't worn off yet. And – much to my surprise – you're worried about Sir." Minion makes a scoffing sound and sits down in the reinforced chair Megamind had designed for him when they had switched over to the big gorilla suits. "You're on unfamiliar ground with someone who doesn't like you. Of course you aren't hungry."

Wayne stares at the yellow half-circle, dotted over with small green circles and specks of red.

"Do you not like onions?" Minion asks, abruptly aware that he had asked Wayne if he was allergic to them, not whether he liked them.

"No, I—I like them okay. It's. You just." Wayne picks up his fork and starts eating with a gusto that seems almost desperate. "'Ss nuffing," he mumbles, mouth full.

Minion pours tea into his ice tray, then aims the ice beam at it. Frost crystals spin minute fractals over the surface almost instantly. "Chew and swallow."

Wayne swallows. "Dad used to do this. Sometimes. On the holidays, when he was home."

Minion blinks at him, perplexed, and Wayne sighs. "The, the thing with the onions, I mean. On eggs."

Minion stares for a moment while that sinks in, then has to resist the urge to go beat his tank against the nearest wall. Of all the stupid, inconsiderate… "I'm sorry," he says without thinking. "I—didn't realize."

Wayne shakes his head. "You couldn't know. 'Sides, it's…it's sort of nice. Like maybe he told you to do that, or something, so I'd know he's not…" He trails off, looking intensely embarrassed. "Never mind. That's. That's dumb. I'm gonna shut up now."

Minion locks his hand so he can focus on Wayne without worrying about freezing the table or dropping the gun. He watches the way the big man eats with his head down and his shoulders hunched like he's trying to hide: a far cry from the heroic posturing Minion remembers. Shallow breaths, half-lidded eyes. There's the shock, of course, but there's a lot of guilt, too, if what Megamind had told Minion last night is correct. But that's mostly unrelated to his parents, at this point. That'll set in when the shock wears off.

_Distract him_, Minion thinks. It shouldn't be hard. There are a lot of things Minion doesn't know, and a lot of answers Wayne can provide.

"Why did you apologize?" he asks. Wayne glances up, then quickly away.

"Blue told me how much it bothered you." He shrugs. "Never really thought how it came across. I always figured calling you 'minion' was pretty rude, but I guess I got it backwards."

Minion sighs. He might as well offer an explanation. "Well, Sir calls me 'fish' every now and again, but it's an endearment, coming from him. I don't know how I'd react if Miss Ritchi called me that to my face. It's fine as a descriptor, but as a form of address…" He shakes his head. "I really, really don't appreciate it. The fishes on this planet aren't sentient, and I take offense to being grouped with them. I'm an alien fish, _not_ an Earthian one. There are pretty significant differences between us."

Wayne looks at him then, surprised. "There are? But—I thought—"

Minion shakes his head again. "Prehistoric swimming reptiles weren't dinosaurs. It's a similar relation, but the difference lies in taxonomy rather than time. When it comes right down to it…well, I'm not cold-blooded, for one thing, so you can shove your Earthian taxonomical boxes up your nose." He says all this in a very matter-of-fact tone of voice, and Wayne's lips twitch with reluctant amusement. Minion takes that as a good sign, and grins, inviting further questions.

"So, if you aren't technically a fish, what are you?"

Minion waves at him, unfreezing his hand so that he can put down the ice beam and crack the tea cubes out of their tray. "I _am_ a fish. Don't worry about it, all right? It's complicated."

Wayne hesitates for a moment. "Look," he says awkwardly, "you don't like people calling you 'fish,' I don't like people thinking I'm too stupid to understand stuff."

Minion pauses and blinks at him, then nods. "Fair enough. I'm an enteroavian archeodiencephalic endothermic ichthyoid. Good luck finding another one of _those_ on this planet."

Wayne stares at him in consternation. "Say that slower."

"Good luck finding another one of those on this planet."

"Oh c'mon," the ex-hero grumbles, "now you're just being facetious."

Minion's brow ridge flies up and his fins flare. Wayne rolls his eyes. "Oooh, yes, I know a big word. Alert the press: Metro _Mahn_ has an actual _vocabulary_." He puts air quotes around 'man,' and Minion has just barely manages to turn his snort at Wayne's approximation of Megamind's broad inflection into a hasty cough. Wayne returns to his normal voice. "Would you please just humor me? 'Cause otherwise you're gonna be Small Fry from now on."

"Small Fry? Save me from the inhumanity."

"I'm retired. Come _on_."

Minion can't hold back the humor, that time, and actually chuckles.

Part of him wants to stay angry, wants to hold onto the grudge. He wants to be angry with Wayne for manhandling Megamind, for yelling at him, for making Sir shrink back against the wall and lose himself completely. And, truth be told, part of him _is_ still mad.

But it's a disconcertingly small part. He had seen Wayne's face when he'd asked if Megamind was going to be okay.

"Enteroavian archeodiencephalic endothermic ichthyoid."

Wayne frowns, thinking. "I know what 'endothermic' is, that's warm-blooded, right? And I'm guessing ichthyoid is, well, 'oid' is like, 'like a,' so…'like a fish?'"

"Pretty much," Minion confirms. He drops a few teacubes through the hatch on his dome, snatches one into his mouth and chews. "The rest of it means that my digestive tract closely resembles that of Earth's birds, and that my brain is…" He pauses, thinking. "…Complex? We actually aren't sure about that one."

Wayne reaches for the saltshaker and upends it, dumping salt onto the tabletop. Minion is too baffled by the action to comment. "Not sure? How can you not be sure?"

"Well, it's a translation." Minion frowns and decides not to say anything about the salt. "It means, 'old double-brain.' We haven't been able to make sense of it yet – I only have one brain. Sir's parents were able to put some basic information about the two of us in his shuttle, but there wasn't time for much, and there are a lot of holes in what we know. We're not even sure how his people and mine communicated. Sir remembers his parents having minions, but he doesn't remember either of them speaking."

"At least you remember _something_," Wayne grumbles, jiggling more salt onto the table. He puts down the shaker and starts pushing the grains into a little mound. "The information in my shuttle is all I have. A bunch of technical documents, some medical diagrams, I can't read any of them. A few pictures of people I don't know. There's some music."

"Music?" Minion can't look away. Wayne is trying to balance the saltshaker on one edge of its base, using the mound of salt as a support.

Wayne nods. "One of the pictures is of a couple who I think are probably my parents. They're holding instruments." He cautiously lifts his hands away from the saltshaker. It stands. "I guess I have a musical background," he mutters, frowning at it.

"Is there any singing?" Minion asks, thinking about vocal recordings and his boss's fondness for new languages.

"No." Wayne's tone goes flat. The saltshaker falls over with a forlorn _tink_ like an apology. "I can't sing."

Minion blinks at him. "Ah…" He tilts his head. "Should you be able to?"

"I can play," Wayne says reluctantly. His face looks like a book that's just fallen closed. "Really – well, depending on the instrument. But I can't sing."

Minion has the distinct feeling that this topic is slipping away from him, somehow. "What do you play?"

"Mom sang. Sings." Wayne slumps a little. What life he had gained during the brief conversation bleeds out of him, flows down the liveliness gradient and is lost in the dead air around him. His face goes still and tired again. "I should go see her," he whispers.

_Aha, we're back on solid ground_, Minion thinks, though he's still a little bewildered by the bit about music. "You haven't yet?"

Wayne shakes his head, stares down at his hands. Helplessly rolls a finger through the scattered grains of salt and looks at them, rubs finger and thumb together gently. "She doesn't know I'm alive. She's also in a coma. They're not sure if she's going to…" He swallows. "I couldn't tell her. I'm an awful son. I couldn't tell either of them."

"Can you tell me why not?" Minion says. He might not like Wayne very much, but it's not in his nature to watch another sentient being sit and suffer without at least _trying_ to help.

Another shake of the head. _His hair is getting long_, Minion notices, frowning at the greying strands that trail over Wayne's shoulder. _Long and ragged. It wants cutting_.

Come to that, Wayne just wants cleaning up in general. He looks tarnished, almost. He needs to be cut and polished, his jagged edges sanded down and his whole façade oiled back to its usual shine, or _something_—Minion has been dying to see Wayne brought low like this for years, but now that it's finally happened, he's starting to wish that he hadn't wanted it quite so badly. Seeing him like this is just unsettling.

"I'm…honestly? I'm not sure I even know. All I know is that I was sick of being a hero."

"And you couldn't just retire?"

Wayne squeezes his fingers together. There's a crunch, and pale dust sifts down onto the table. "It…it doesn't work like that. It wouldn't have worked."

Minion sits back in his chair. _Couldn't tell either of them, huh?_ "Your parents wouldn't have stood for it, you mean."

Wayne's head snaps up and he stares at the fish for a moment. Then he groans and rubs a hand over his face, his ears turning pink. "I'm – for heaven's sake, I'm an adult. I've moved out. It shouldn't matter so much."

"Oh, don't be silly," Minion scoffs. "Everyone wants their parents to be proud of them. Did you miss the part where Miss Ritchi is in such a state because she just told her mother off for insulting Sir? You're about the same age, aren't you?" He makes a huffing sound. "Age has nothing to do with it, Mr. Scott."

Wayne just groans again and puts his head back down on the table.

Minion sighs. "Let me tell you a story. Will you let me tell you a story?"

A shrug. "Sure. Why not."

"Once upon a time, Sir killed a man." Minion sounds very matter-of-fact about it. "He didn't mean to. It was an accident. But it happened, and we were both shocked. And that night, I couldn't find him. I woke up in the middle of the night and went looking for him, and I couldn't _find_ him. And the car was gone. I checked my phone. Text from our uncle Guduza. _He's OK, he's with Mitch_.

"Now, what you have to understand," Minion continues, "is that Uncle Mitch is the one who took the most responsibility for us when we were growing up. He was sort of our father for a long, long time. Guduza comes in a close second. He was the one who helped Sir the most when he was eight, after—" He cuts off abruptly and looks over at Wayne. "Do you know what the PHED is? Spelled PHED?"

Wayne looks up and frowns. There's salt on his forehead. "N…no. I don't think so."

"Do you have a silver card?"

"Oh!" Wayne snaps his fingers in sudden recognition. "Yes, them. Father took me to see them when I was small. They were nice."

Minion's mouth makes a thin line. "They also run a fairly extensive research facility, and we aren't all lucky enough to have adoption papers and an influential father."

Wayne blinks. "Oh." Minion just looks at him, and suddenly Wayne's eyes go very wide as comprehension dawns. "_Oh!_"

"Good, you understand. So—"

"Is he _okay?_" Wayne asks, looking horrified. "I mean. I guess that explains all the cloak-and-dagger stuff. The paranoia."

"Oh, yes, he's fine now," Minion assures him, "don't worry. But he wasn't, for a while. Guduza helped him a lot. Mitch did what he could, but it was Guduza put in for a cell change and stayed up nights with us. And it was Guduza who looked after me while Sir was away. He didn't know I could think, but he talked to me a lot anyway. My point is that Mitch and Guduza pretty much raised us. And if you had just killed somebody, even by accident, who would you want to see the most?"

Wayne shuts his eyes, and Minion pauses before making his point. "We're all children, Mr. Scott. Really, we are. We're bigger than we used to be, but when bad things happen, we want our parents."

Wayne just lets out a long, slow breath. Minion looks at him.

He thinks about Sir, and Miss Ritchi, and Miss Ritchi's mother. He thinks about pigheadedness, and blindness, and grudges. He thinks about how he wishes Miss Ritchi's mother would be more tolerant. He thinks about how he hopes everything will play out. And he thinks about how he has been towards Mr. Scott, and the parallels there, and he swallows.

"Mr. Scott. Would you…would you like some frozen tea? Or I could put the kettle back on. Or we have coffee, if you'd prefer that."

Wayne glances up at him, and Minion pushes the ice cube tray in his direction with what he hopes is a smile. Wayne stares. "Look," he says slowly, "I know…I know Blue doesn't hate me. But I was pretty sure you did. You definitely have some good reasons to. So why…"

Minion sighs and slumps. He might as well just explain now and get it over with. "I would love to keep my grudges against you, Mr. Scott. You made Sir's life a living hell for all twelve years we were in school, and you're at the root of a lot of his insecurities. There was a brief period in tenth grade when I was not sure if he was going to make it. Frankly, I don't like you very much."

Wayne swallows, but doesn't protest or try to defend himself. He doesn't deny anything either.

"But," Minion continues, "you've apologized for the way you've treated me. You've as good as apologized for the way you treated him. You came when I told you he needed you, and that says a lot, and you also tried to help him with Miss Ritchi, back there. You've done a pretty good job of convincing me that, despite my semi-valid bias against you…you're are not as bad a person as I thought."

He looks down and picks at a minute spot on the table, wishing he had sleeves so that he could fiddle with his cuffs. What he's just said is not nearly enough, and he knows it, so he reluctantly continues with, "In fact, I think you may actually be a very _good_ person. Your heart is in the right place, anyway. You may not be doing much with it, but I think you at least _have_ one."

Wayne looks at him, almost unable to believe what he's hearing. Other people have told him he's good, But not Minion. Never Minion. Even Megamind has treated him with something akin to respect since they graduated high school, but Minion has always treated him with open derision, complete contempt.

So when _Minion_ calls him a good person, when _Minion_ looks up at him again and says, "Which is why I find your assertion that you are an 'awful son' so difficult to agree with," it's all Wayne can do not to put his head back down on the table and cry.

It's a very good thing that the kitchen door opens and Megamind and Roxanne turn up when they do. Minion and Wayne turn, both relieved and trying not to show it.

Megamind is red-faced and barefoot and Roxanne is grinning, and Wayne swallows the lump in his throat and frowns downwards. "I don't think I've ever seen your feet, before." It's the perfect non sequitur-come-segue. "They're all bony."

Minion stiffens, but Megamind blinks and glances down, wiggles his toes, and grins a bit. "I bet _your_ feet _smell_," he says, and flounces over to a chair and plops himself into it in an untidy tangle of skinny arms and legs. Wayne just shakes his head.

"Oh!" Megamind exclaims suddenly, hopping back up again. "I almost—wait a minute!" And he dashes out of the room, bare feet barely touching the cool floor.

"What was _that_ about?" Roxanne looks up at Minion, who shrugs expansively.

"Did you two sort things out?" Wayne asks.

Roxanne nods. "Yeah. We've both been…really tense, these past couple of days, and today it all just exploded. But we're better now." She blinks and cocks her head. "You have salt on your face."

Wayne lets out a muffled curse and rucks the collar of his tee-shirt up over his face to his hairline, scrubs his face on the inside of his shirt hard enough to leave scorch marks.

Minion clears his throat. "And did he…?"

Roxanne nods. "I'm going to be living here."

A smile breaks like sunrise over Minion's face, which had been tense and lined with worry. "Oh, _good!_" he exclaims. "I'm so glad, Miss Ritchi. It's going to be lovely, having you here."

"Found it!" Megamind comes back in like a whirlwind, somewhat out of breath, then looks at Wayne and comes to a grinding halt. "Oh, _come on_," he cries, glaring at the burn marks on Wayne's collar and drumming his fingers angrily on the box he's holding. "I left you alone for thirty seconds. _How does this happen?_"

Wayne grins tiredly. "I'm too sexy for my shirt?"

"_No_," Megamind groans. "No, no,_ no_. No. That would only work if the line were, 'I'm too _hot_ for my shirt,' which it isn't and you aren't." He stops, suddenly contrite. "I'm sorry, that was uncharitable."

Wayne's grin gets a little more lively. "Well, you're not exactly an interested party."

Megamind shrugs and skips around him, heads for his chair again. "Yeah, okay."

Wayne recoils. "'_Okay_'_?_" he repeats incredulously. "Wha—you're _not_ an interested party, are you?" Megamind looks horrified and Roxanne bursts into peals of laughter that she had probably been trying to hold back. Wayne chuckles and shakes his head. "Sorry, it's been a long day." It's a weak excuse, especially because it's not yet noon, but it's true. It's also probably part of why Roxanne is laughing so hard.

Megamind sits down carefully, watching Wayne as if fearing for his sanity. "Would it make any difference if I were?"

Wayne snorts. "I very much doubt it. You're not my type."

"Do you even _have_ a type?" Megamind wonders, but it sounds rhetorical and he doesn't give Wayne much time to reply, instead handing him the box he had brought and saying, "Open it."

Mystified, Wayne complies, blinking confusedly down at the contents. "What the…is this _hair?_" That's what it looks like: skeins of white hair knotted loosely so the strands don't separate. He lifts one carefully out of the box and turns it, frowning at the way it shines in the light.

"It's pretty," Roxanne says, reaching for it.

"Don't touch it!" Megamind's voice is sharp, and Roxanne snatches her hand back, turning to stare at him. "It's glass. Textile fibers, high-silica."

Wayne's expression turns wary. "And I'm supposed to do what with this?"

Megamind gives him a _don't-be-stupid_ look and cocks an eyebrow. "I made Titan from your DNA, don't forget," he says smugly. "I know what you're made of. I know how you get your strength." He pauses. "…I also know how many stomachs you have, but that's probably irrelevant here."

Roxanne blinks. "Wha…"

"Three," Megamind tells her.

Wayne glares at him. "Hey!"

"What?" Megamind shrugs, looking totally innocent, and for once, the expression works. "We're _aliens_. I have a _gizzard_, okay?" he says, pointing at his own belly. "You're really not that weird. Shut up and eat your glass."

Wayne's wide white smile is genuine, this time – the first time that Minion has ever seen, and it makes the big man look years younger. And Minion nearly falls over in surprise when Wayne says, "Thanks, little buddy."

_Huh_.

Megamind just grins, then sighs. "I feel a lot better now," he remarks, to nobody in particular. "Oh, and Wayne. If you want to go visit your mom, I think I can give you a ten-minute window. I mean I can take out their security for ten minutes or so, if you want."

Wayne raises his eyebrows. The skein crunches disconcertingly when he bites into it. "If you could, yeah. That'd be great. Tonight, maybe? The night shift?"

"Not as many people around," Megamind nods. "You know she hasn't come to, yet. They're going to start surgery on her face as soon as she stabilizes." There's a note in his voice that Minion has never heard before—he sounds cautious, almost _gentle_, and Minion thinks of something.

"Mr. Scott, what's going to happen to the manor?"

"Oh, god," Wayne groans, swallowing forcefully. "There are measures in place, I mean – as soon as it's known she'll pull through, they'll start re-construction. But there's gonna be a mountain of red tape a mile high. The insurance companies are going to have a field day."

Megamind presses his lips together and looks into the distance. Roxanne speaks up. "How about the people who used to work there? What'll happen to them?"

Wayne rubs a big hand backwards through his hair. "They'll be…taken care of. I'll see to that, privately. I know Don stays on the grounds – he's got a little apartment above the boathouse."

Megamind blinks back to reality. "Don?" he says. "Don Giovanni? He's still alive, then?"

Wayne nods. "He's gotta be in his nineties by now, but yeah. You know him?"

Megamind doesn't answer that. "I didn't know he worked for you."

Wayne chuckles. "Yeah, he…I'm surprised he's stayed on as long as he has, but he says he wouldn't leave our gardens for the world."

"Hmm," Megamind says, but that's all. "Okay, well…hm."

"Something wrong?" Wayne wants to know, but Megamind doesn't appear to hear him.

"He's having a brainstorm," Minion tells Wayne, and he frowns a little.

"I really hope you don't mean that literally."

Minion snorts, then tramps back over to the fridge and pulls out the carton of eggs.

"Roxie, as long as the subject's already come up," Wayne begins, and she sits up a little straighter, "have you given any thought to what you'll do if your mother refuses to…um…give ground?"

Roxanne sighs. "Well, what's she going to do – forbid me to see him? There's nothing she can lord over me that would dissuade me. I don't know. I don't think she'll disown me for it, but the way she refuses to let go of this, it's almost like it's personal. Drew thinks she might hate Megamind because he's a whatsit, an outworlder—but Wayne, so are you."

"Does your mother _know_ I'm a…an outworlder?" Wayne asks. "She might still think I'm just a super."

"_Just_ a super?" Megamind pulls back to the present and looks at him, confused. "Supers are even rarer than aliens, and you're the only one of those I've ever met outside the PHED headquarters."

"Yeah, but how many people know that?" Wayne points out, and Megamind has to admit that this is true.

"It's news to me," Roxanne tells them. "Still, she's irrational enough about this that I don't know what she'll do. She's like me – when she throws a fit like that, she tends to say things she doesn't mean. I don't think she'd have said half of what she did earlier if she had been thinking straight."

"What _did_ she say?" Megamind asks curiously, then adds, "If you don't mind my asking."

"That Chad couldn't have been as bad as I was making him sound, or I'd have said something sooner. And then that I must have done something to set him off."

"Ooh," says Wayne, wincing. "Ouch."

Roxanne laughs a little. "Yeah, it was—it was pretty bad."

"Are you still thinking of going down for Thanksgiving?"

Roxanne nods. "Yeah. I think I will. Having Drew there will make it easier, we can present a united front."

Megamind blinks and holds up his hands. "Whoa, wait, when did Drew find out about us? I thought we weren't telling him."

"Drew already thinks Mom is way out of line where you're concerned," Roxanne replies, starting to smile. "Whether we're dating or not won't make a bit of difference. His whole lab is on your side – I've Skyped in a couple of times so that he can show me things, and for a while there I was The Chick Who Knows Megamind."

"Wait, really?" Wayne laughs. Megamind just stares at her.

"I remember one time Drew was talking to me on his laptop, and his friend Extant saw me and said, and I quote, 'Hey guys, it's the Megamind chick!'" She chuckles and shakes her head. "We should definitely put in an appearance at his lab when we go down for Christmas. They would love to meet you. And they have this wild party every year, it's full of science-types, just your kind of people."

"That c-could be fun," Megamind stammers. The knowledge that people other than the ones currently in the kitchen support him never fails to startle him a little.

Minion moves the eggs around in the pan. Spatula in one hand, pan in the other, pink frilly apron. Roxanne laughing at Megamind at the table. Megamind laughing at Roxanne. Wayne, astonishingly, laughing at _both_ of them and actually being a decent person to boot.

So much has happened over the past two days. So much is _going_ to happen over the next few weeks, probably. And yet, somehow, and even after everything that blew up this morning – the little scene unfolding behind him is simple and light-hearted and – for lack of a better word – fun.

Life, for Minion, has always been a series of moments like this one. The little moments have always stood out clearly against the helter-skelter backdrop of building, breaking, and battling. Minion has always taken note of these moments – he sets his life to them. They're what's important, after all.

He stays quiet for the rest of breakfast, just watching the other three interact, watching the weird dynamic develop.

And when Wayne finally gets up and clears his plate and says, "Hey, Minion? Thanks for breakfast," Minion finds himself actually _smiling_.

It's progress.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Sundown looks down at the body, chewing thoughtfully on his toothpick. Pity. Now he'll have to find a different way to handle the Chairmen.

Well, he'll deal with that soon enough. What's _really_ irritating is that this could all have been avoided if Whitehill hadn't been such a prick. Springing him from jail had been easy, and manipulating him should have been easy too, but Sundown had underestimated the man's ability to hold a grudge. And Whitehill had been intelligent enough to figure out where the Ritchi woman spends a decent portion of her time.

To make matters worse, he had also been one of those rare, special people whose intense xenophobia borders on insane. And jealous to boot. One-track mind in a man like that – no wonder he had deviated from the plan and gone after the Ritchi woman.

He had made himself a liability. If he had only _listened_, had followed directions the way he had been _supposed to do_, Sundown could have used him to draw Megamind's attention where he had wanted it to go. But no; the idiot had cast a wrench into his plans and nearly ruined everything.

Sometimes it takes a literal wrench to fix a metaphorical one.

"Thanks," he mutters to the floating cyborg beside him, when it offers him the sticky tool. "I'll hang onto that, yeah. No good if your master found it. And you should probably bleach your claws."

He nudges the body with a toe. Sundown had caught the mistake in time, so the idiot hadn't fouled things up _too_ badly. Sundown had hoped to put Megamind's attention on Chad, give him a jealous ex-boyfriend to play with while Sundown got some work done. With Chad dead it will be harder, but if he plays his cards right he might still be able to pull it off, thanks to Nibs' timely arrival.

There's still too much going on, though. Too many tracks to cover. Sundown will have to step up his game.

At least now he has an ally. Can't trust humans, they're too emotional. But robots, boy. Robots listen to reason without all the emotions getting in the way and buggering things up. Robots, Sundown thinks, make _sense_.

"So you understand my position," he says mildly, shoving the wrench into his back pocket after wiping it on his shirttails, which have already gone stiff and turned the color of rust. _Lancaster won't like it_, he thinks, and then answers himself, _Lancaster can kiss my ass_. "Mente finds out about the Chairmen ahead of schedule, they'll just kill him and adjust plans accordingly. No questions asked. The Chairmen find out I'm playing underground, they'll kill _me_. They kill me, they'll just continue with their plans."

I'M STILL UNCLEAR AS TO WHY YOU CARE.

Sundown shrugs. "If they win, it won't be fun anymore. Besides, I've worked too hard to get this city where it is to let them burn it down."

AND WE CANNOT REMOVE THEM OURSELVES?

Sundown sniffs and glares into the morning sun. The cold air makes his nose run. "We'd never find all the bombs, and anyway they're international. And I can't leave Metro City. It's a no-go."

SIR COULD FIND THEM.

"What part of, _they have all his files_, did you not understand?" the cut-eared man demands. "They've prepared for that. They've tailored their defenses to hold up against Mente _specifically_. Like I said. He finds out, they ain't gonna wait around for him to come to them. Nibs, my buddy, my man," Sundown sighs, shaking his head. "We don't step lightly, Mente goes up in smoke."

IF SIR DIES, THE CITY FALLS. YOU KNOW THAT, RIGHT?

"You bet your sweet synthetic synapses." He flicks a cigarette into his hand and holds it to the brainbot's pilot light without asking.

THOSE THINGS WILL KILL YOU.

"Yeah, yeah. You sound like Lanc." Sundown finally turns and faces the floating brainbot, his face more aquiline than ever in the slanted light. "Look man, I'm real glad you're on my side. You're the key. Mente can't do anything. Ritchi can't do anything. Trouble is, the Chairmen have the cards. Their fort is totally secure, as far as they know. But they don't have our ace in the hole."

UNDERSTOOD.

"But it'll only continue to _be_ an ace in the hole as long as you keep it that way."

UNDERSTOOD.

"You'll keep it off the records. No video, no audio. Infrared, too. You've got two days before they gather up the feed to review it."

UNDERSTOOD.

"You're sure you can do it."

I AM CERTAIN. IT WILL NOT BE DIFFICULT. Nibs lifts his claws and waggles them like a magician revealing a party trick. I CAN REBUILD IT; I HAVE THE TECHNOLOGY.

"So do they." Sundown glances back out at the horizon, the city skyline. Then he rouses himself. "Okay, look, you better go. I've got things I need to do. Stuff to wrap up. You get me?"

YOU WILL BE IN TOUCH?

"Whenever possible. You'll let me know if you find anything?"

CROSS MY CPU AND HOPE TO BLUESCREEN.

Sundown's crooked mouth cants into a grin like a knife. Smoke trails up from his nose. "Cheers." He glances down at the body one last time. "You know where I can find Mente?"

DOCK FIVE, HEADING NORTH.

"All right, I'll catch you later." Nibs flits away and vanishes into the morning sunlight. Sundown clamps his cigarette between his teeth and grabs the body by an arm, drags it to the edge of the high roof. Peers over the edge to the sidewalk below. He isn't watching the pedestrians; he could care less about _them_. They aren't important. What's important, as always, is that the bodies hit the floor. And they do, of course, assuming there are no pesky shop awnings or balconies in the way

Knives dull, guns jam, even arrows are sometimes not _quite_ sharp enough—but gravity is forever.

He pulls a knife from his belt, plunges it into the dead man's chest, cuts in a circle. It's a beautiful morning. _A beautiful day_, he thinks, and hums under his breath. _Let's make the most of this beautiful day…_

Bone is no problem, flesh and arteries even less so. Sundown hums, feeling unaccountably pleased in spite of everything that's gone wrong. "Bm bm, a neighborly day in this beauty wood—" he pauses to grit out an oath in a language that sounds like crackling fire when the knife turns and sticks, then resumes. "Bm, neighborly day for a beauty."

When he has what he wants stowed safely away, he straightens and plants one bare foot on the side of the body and rolls it unceremoniously off the edge of the building.

Screams and cries of alarm echo up from the street. Sundown grins and throws his arms out, exulting, spinning on the balls of his feet, laughing like a child. "Would you be mine? Could you be mine?" Nobody hears him but the pigeons, and they keep their distance.

"Please won't you be my neighbor?"

He laughs again, then whirls and dashes out across the rooftops, forearms bared and bloody, jeans cuffs rolled up, jacketless, shoeless, heedless of the November wind. He dances and leaps over the office buildings of central Metro, utterly unconcerned about gravity and the fact that the ground lies a blinding thirty stories down. A quick glance up at the sun tells him what he needs to know, and he adjusts his direction as he needs to, aiming for the docks at the edge of town.

He has had so little hope, for so long, and now there is a light at the end of the tunnel. That little robot is a godsend, and just in time. Sundown can win, now—he has a fighting chance, now.

More than a chance. A guarantee. He's _going_ to win. He darts over the rooftops, running like a dancer, laughing like bonfire, burning his way to Megamind.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The blue alien is huddled down into his jacket, gloved hands clenching and unclenching in his pockets, when Sundown drops onto the roof behind him and tumbles to his feet.

"Mornin,' neighbor." He stretches, rolling his shoulders. "Looking for me?"

Megamind turns, already on his guard. Sundown sounds very pleased this morning, and there's something strange about his voice. "Yes, actually. How did you know?"

Sundown shrugs and looks at his cigarette, which has gone out. Megamind takes it wordlessly, gives it a quick pulse from his de-gun and hands it back. He says nothing about the blood crusting on Sundown's fingers, nor the fact that the other man's pupils are so dilated that his eyes are nearly black.

"Thanks."

"You could carry a lighter, you know."

"Where's the fun in that?" Sundown's wide, closed-mouthed grin flashes briefly below his flat doll's eyes. "What's eating you?"

"Roxanne Ritchi." Megamind searches Sundown's face for some trace of recognition, but finds none. "You know her?"

Sundown doesn't blink, but then, he hardly ever does. "Might. Who's asking?"

"I am."

Sundown rolls his eyes, trying not to grin at the sound of Megamind gritting his teeth. "Yesss, _and?_ What's your interest? Come on, Mente, you know the drill."

Megamind's nostrils flare. He's keeping his tone as flat and controlled as he can, but Sundown knows the difference. "I'm asking, because we're dating. There was an incident this morning. You interfered. You don't normally interfere. I want to know what _your_ interest is."

"That's more like it." Sundown studies the glowing end of his cigarette, watches the way the smoke turns and curls. "Well, ain't much to tell you, sorry. I was in the right place at the right time."

Megamind's irritated expression turns to one of flat anger. "You expect me to believe it was coincidence?"

"No. That would be stupid, and you and I may be many things but stupid is not one of them. No. You ain't stupid." He raises his black eyes to hold Megamind securely in his gaze. "But that's what I'm telling you. And that's all I'm telling you. You best take what you can get and quit while you ahead."

Megamind seethes quietly for a moment, but there's not much he can do against Sundown, especially when he's like this—it's his voice, the way he's sliding in and out of the street cadences Megamind knows and something distressingly cultured and articulate. "Fine. What can you tell me about Chad Whitehill?"

Sundown sniffs and stares out at the bay. _Let the bodies hit the floor, let the bodies hit the floor_. _It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood_. "Oh, a lot of things. What do you wanna know?"

"Where is he now?"

Sundown grins and shakes his head. "Too blunt. You know this." _Let the bodies hit the floor_. He's in a dangerous mood. Flying high, whirling above the ground. Like singing. _Let the bodies hit the floor; something's got to give_. It really is a _nice_ day, he thinks.

Megamind shifts his weight impatiently. "Sundown, I do _not_ have time—"

_Let the bodies hit the—_

Inhale. Blink. And turn.

Sundown's eyes roll over white and he whirls, wraps one hand in the front of the blue man's coat, and drags him stumbling around in a tight circle as his other hand comes to rest lightly on the column of Megamind's neck. "No," he hisses, with the sun in his eyes and the smell of blood and fear sharp in his nostrils, "no, you _don't_ have time. But _I _have time, all the time in the world, and I owe you, and that is answer enough to all of your questions. Do not test me, Mente, and most especially do not tempt me."

Sundown smells adrenaline; Megamind is fighting not to struggle. "Y-you could at least tell me your plans—okay. Okay!" He shakes his head and starts back when Sundown's thumb presses gently under his jaw—his hands are big enough that he can wrap one all the way around Megamind's neck, and Megamind can feel his pulse drumming a frenetic tattoo against steady fingers. "Sun—Sundown, _please!_ Okay?"

Sundown lets out a bark of trumpeting laughter that chokes up from his lungs and cracks harshly over the roof, and shoves Megamind roughly away from him. Any more of that and he's liable to do something he'll regret. "_Chtaon!_ As if your knowing would change my plans. No, Mente, you will take what scraps I give you and leave the rest for the circling buzzards." It's a hell of a lot more direct than he usually is, but his mind is spinning and the world is whirling sunspots behind his eyes; he can barely think, let alone speak. "Be glad it is not _your_ heart they're eating, yeah? _Chtaon!_"

He thrusts a wooden box into Megamind's hands, hard enough that it slams into Megamind's thin chest and sends him back a couple of steps. "Do not open this," he grits out; "it is not yours to open. This belongs to the reporter lady. Give it to her when next you see her, and tell her to open it _now_. Where she is?" He frowns, sucks his teeth for a moment, tips his head to the side so that his neck cracks loudly. "Where _iszz she?_ Now. Tell me."

Megamind knows better than to disobey—he's caught Sundown at a dangerous time, and there's no telling what he might do when he's like this. _I should have left this until tomorrow_, he thinks, but it's too late for that now. The de-gun is at his hip, set to De-ath Ray, and he hopes to whatever god may be listening that Sundown hadn't seen him changing the settings when he had pulled it to light the man's cigarette earlier. "S-she went home to start packing," he stammers. "I'll be heading over to help her in a little while."

His phone rings. Sundown steps away, a terrible smile tracing hard lines over his harder face. "Answer it."

Megamind hesitates. The smile broadens eagerly, and his lips pull back from double rows of teeth like needles. "_Anszzwer't_. Now."

Gloved hands flick the phone open. It sounds like Roxanne had already been speaking, babbling a stream of high-pitched gibberish into the phone even before Megamind had answered.

"What?" Megamind says. "What? Slow—slow_ down_, I can't understa—_what?_ He _what?_"

The phone slips from his fingers and he spins, looking wildly around for the creature that calls itself Sundown, but the roof is deserted.

Megamind's knees abruptly refuse to hold him, and he sits down heavily to pick up his phone. His hands are shaking, but he does his best to ignore it. "Rox—Honey? Don't panic. I'm on my way."


	13. Chapter 13

Thanks to the following Redditors who provided me with an excellent exchange about unit conversions (I doubt any of you will ever read this, but just in case, credit where it's due): latsbrah, bpoag, PartyBusGaming, Dubbed_Video_Dub, SwedishGekko, jmorlin, HydraCarbon, and Digipete.

...I say again, what is wrong with meeeee.

Okay, see, here's the thing. The pacing has been off since chapter 9 or 10 or so. I was too worried about length. So this chapter is shorter than most of the ones before it, and there will be _one more_ after this one. I think it works better this way.

I think these chapters may be _too_ long. This one's a little better.

Cheers, lovelies! And big hugs and a large plate of cookies, as always. Here is a blanket, fresh from the dryer, and an unoccupied heating vent. Sit down, cuddle up. And read about good people having horrible things happen to them! :D Remember back in Chapter 6 how I said things would only go downhill from there? I meant it.

Thanks as always for bearing with me.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

The body hits the sidewalk with a dull thump as soon as Roxanne steps out the door of her apartment building, and she stumbles back, one hand over her mouth and the other outflung to catch herself on something, anything, before she falls. Shouts from nearby citizens tell her that no, she is not imagining things.

It's Chad. Somehow, someway, it's Chad. Chad lying on his back on the concrete staring up at nothing with empty eyes, Chad with his head beaten in, with a gaping hole in his chest.

It _was_ Chad, anyway.

Some small part of her recognizes that she cannot think. Nothing coherent. Her thoughts have gone into a mad, whirling buzz.

There's an arm around her shoulders, a stranger steering her away from the body. No, not a stranger. Strangers don't smell like mint and tobacco. Carlos. "Here, Miss. You don't need to look at this. I'll take care of this. _Ay_, back, you little flying bugger! Keep away."

Brainbots have descended as if from nowhere, stretching a ring of yellow tape around the body. One is trying to put a claw on Roxanne's shoulder, but Carlos keeps waving it away. "No," Roxanne says, her lips numb. "No, he's all right, he won't hurt me. That's Nibs."

Nibs flashes his eyestalk at her, but Roxanne shakes her head. The brainbot blinks once in understanding and gives up trying to communicate. He floats to her side and slips his claw into her hand, squeezes gently.

Roxanne takes a deep breath to keep from screaming and pats Nibs' dome, then walks back inside.

"Okay, Miss Ritchi," Carlos says, following her in, "you come over here and sit down. Or you want to go back up to your apartment?"

Roxanne shakes her head mutely. Carlos nods. "Okay. Come with me." He takes her arm and guides her over behind his desk, to a door that has always been closed in the past. It leads to a small, dark room with an easy chair covered in small scorch marks and stains, an old television showing some over-acted drama, and a mini-fridge. Carlos settles Roxanne into the chair. "Here, here is a blanket, here is a Coke, no, drink it, the sugar is good for you. Okay. You stay here until it calms down out there, okay? Yes."

There's a tap on his shoulder and he turns to see Nibs, then spots the crowd behind the floating robot. People are beginning to trickle into the lobby of the apartment complex.

Carlos brushes past Nibs, slamming the door to his room behind him. "No! Get out!" he snaps, herding people back towards the glass doors. It's been years since his days as a bouncer for the AM Local, but he hasn't forgotten how to get people to get out. It's all in the stance, it's all in the body language. "Out! Out! Everybody out. Only patrons and guests in here. You on the list? No sir. You turn 'round and gitcher ass out the door. You live here? No ma'am! No children in here. And _you_," he snarls as an off-duty reporter pulls out his notepad and opens his mouth, "get the _fuck_ out of this establishment!"

The reporter offers a sappy smile and takes a deep breath, only to have his pen shoved halfway up his nose by a woman with a stroller fleeing Carlos' steady wrath. "_OUT!_" Carlos bellows, and chases the last of the curious passers-by out onto the sidewalk and then locks the doors.

He folds his arms over his chest. Nobody is going to get past him without a very good reason.

The brainbot floats to his side, _thaum_ing worriedly, and together they watch the crowd mill outside. Carlos doesn't relax—not when the police arrive, not when the body is carried away on a stretcher and soda poured over the sidewalk to clean up the blood, not even after the crowd begins to dissipate. And certainly not when the news vans show up.

He stands like a rock for nearly half an hour, arms over his chest, _ain't-nobody-messes-with-me_ scowl firmly in place. Finally he glances down at the machine at his hip. "This," he says, "is going to be a strange day."

The machine tilts its eyestalk up at him, then tilts up and down a few times. Carlos blinks and looks closer. "Can you—did you nod?"

_Thaum_, says Nibs, and nods again.

"You understand me?"

Another nod.

"But you cannot speak." Carlos stands for a moment, eyeing the brainbot's claws thoughtfully. "You can write?"

Nibs pauses. Tilts to the side. Carlos makes a decision and gestures for the little machine to follow him over to the desk, where he finds a pen and scrap of paper and turns only to find that Nibs has opened up a text document on the computer and is typing like mad.

_I think this will probably be easier than writing,_ Nibs types. _I recently switched chassis and am still acclimating. My manual dexterity needs to be adjusted, but with all that's been happening lately, I haven't come around to it. I'm called Nibs, who are you?_

"Carlos," says Carlos.

_I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Carlos. May I submit a query?_

Carlos has to blink a few times. "You mean, can you ask me a question? Sure."

_What are your feelings towards my master?_

"Um," says Carlos. "Why?"

_Because Miss Ritchi has recovered some of her mental faculties and is calling him. He'll be here soon. I want you to be prepared. He's not going to be in a good mood_.

Carlos frowns. "How do you know that?"

_Trust me_, the brainbot types. _I know_.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The crowd has mostly dissolved, the people gone back to their own little lives, when Megamind's black Hudson screams down the street and jumps the curb to grind to a halt on the sidewalk. The crowd scatters long enough to get out of the way—citizens of Metro City are very good at avoiding sudden death—but the people coalesce again almost immediately as the city's resident ex-supervillain nearly falls out of the driver's seat. Luckily Carlos is already unlocking the door, and he pulls it open just in time for Megamind to dive into the lobby. Then he closes it again and locks it quickly, before anyone else can follow.

Megamind scrambles to his feet, wild-eyed. "Roxanne?"

Carlos knows the look on his face and knows that talking won't do a single ounce of good, so he just shows him through the door to his back room, where Roxanne is curled in the faded chair, watching a rerun of _Más sabe el Diablo_.

Megamind steps through the door, blinking a little as his heart begins to decelerate. A small, rational part of his brain wonders why the armchair Roxanne's sitting is scorched in places, and another small, rational part files the question away under 'Irrelevant.'

He clears his throat. "Roxanne?"

Roxanne doesn't look up. "I have no idea what's going on!" she exclaims. "Apparently this one guy was, I dunno, nobody likes him except the hot lawyer girl, but he got shot and he fell off the bridge and everybody thought he was dead? Only now he isn't dead at all? I can't understand a single thing anyone is saying, but everybody's yelling about _something_."

Megamind clears his throat. "So our bad day just got worse," he says evenly. "I just had a talk with Sundown over by the docks."

Roxanne looks at him, then. "Sundown was there?"

Megamind nods and glances down at the box he's holding. "He said to give you this. He said it belongs to you. I'm really not sure if I should –"

Roxanne swallows and shakes her head. "No, I think I'd rather do as he says." She reaches for the box. "What's in it?"

Megamind shrugs. "He said I shouldn't open it."

Roxanne frowns and undoes the clasp, swings the hinged lid open. And blinks. Her face goes totally blank, and totally white. "…Oh."

Megamind bites his lip. Roxanne is making the face he had expected to see when he had told her that Chad was missing from prison. "What is it? Are you okay?"

"I'm not sure," Roxanne says numbly. Her teeth are beginning to chatter as she closes the box, latches it with shaking hands, and holds it out. "I think you'd b-better take it. I don't want it."

Megamind looks at it, then back at Roxanne as he slowly takes it away. "But, he said—it's yours."

Roxanne's mouth draws a thin line. "If he said it's mine, then I'll do what I want with it. And I don't want it. Get rid of it. Give it to the police. Burn it, for all I care." She swallows hard. "Carlos?"

The doorman pokes his head in. "Miss?"

Roxanne swallows again. Her eyes are like saucers. "Carlos, I think I'm going to be sick. Is there a bucket?"

Carlos darts forward and grabs the wastebasket and turns it over, sending empty Coke cans clattering everywhere, then dodges around Megamind to set the bin on the floor in front of Roxanne. She nods her thanks and slides off the chair.

Carlos looks at Megamind, who is standing frozen, staring into the open box. "You need one too?"

Megamind blinks twice and clicks the box closed. "No. No, I'll be all right, thank you." He's pale, but not as pale as Roxanne, and his voice is steady, and Carlos' eyes narrow as the alien heaves a sigh and goes over to kneel beside Roxanne. Not down on one knee, not a crouch. He's kneeling, feet curled inwards behind him and knees together in front, and Carlos isn't sure why but that _says_ something.

"Hey. It's all right. It's okay." Megamind brushes Roxanne's hair back from her forehead, tucks errant strands behind her ear. "It's okay. I've got you."

She sniffs and lifts her head. She hasn't thrown up yet, but Carlos hands her a bottle of water and a dishtowel just in case. He's still watching Megamind. _There's something here_, Carlos thinks, _and I don't think I was expecting it_.

"Th-that was his heart. Wasn't it." Roxanne gulps and looks at Megamind. "That was Chad's _heart_."

"Pity it wasn't something else," Megamind says. His tone is too flippant for Carlos' tastes, but there's genuine worry underneath. "We could have made so very many 'dick-in-a-box' jokes."

Roxanne lets out a weak laugh that sounds like a sob.

"A real shame," Megamind continues, shaking his head in mock-despair. "Opportunities like that don't come every day."

"…Oh my god." She leans sideways until she bumps into his chest, and that's really what seals the deal for Carlos. Roxanne has lived in his building for nearly ten years, and he has seen her greet friends and family, he has been present at the last four Christmas parties she's thrown—in all the time he's known her, he has only ever seen her act like this around Metro Man. "Why would Sundown send me his heart?"

Megamind shrugs. "Why does Sundown do any of what he does? He's insane."

"Should I…thank him? Or something?"

Megamind rests his chin on her head and, incredibly, Roxanne relaxes. "Probably not," the ex-villain mumbles. "Best just to stay away from him, I think."

"'Kay." There's a brief pause, and then Roxanne pulls away and looks up at him. "Do you think Wayne might know anything about him?"

Megamind frowns. "He might. I can't believe he could be a hero for so long and _not_ run into Sundown at some point or other."

It is at this point that they both remember Carlos, and look up. He looks back at them, notes that they are both staring like deer in the headlights, and takes the initiative. "Um," he says. "Don't ask, don't tell?"

Megamind's eyebrows draw together, then shoot skyward. It's Roxanne who replies, "Not the usual context, but in this case, I think I'll take it. Thanks, Carlos."

"Oh," says Megamind, "_that's_ what he…oh. Huh."

"I'm going to go see if it is clear outside," Carlos tells them, and disappears, scratching his head. He's going to need a stiff drink after this. Thank God for the emergency bottle of corn liquor hiding in the locked file drawer of his desk. Moonshine tastes like angry fire, but that's okay; Carlos and fire are old, old friends.

Roxanne sends a questioning look in Megamind's direction as the doorman's footsteps fade. "What is it?"

"Oh, I just—nothing." Megamind frowns. "Really," he insists, "it's nothing."

"Tell me."

"It's…" He pauses for a moment. "I think Wayne might be gay."

Roxanne blinks at him, then bursts out laughing. "Really? You think?"

Megamind flushes and hunches a little. "Hey, I'm new at this, okay? What do I know about sexuality?"

The laughter fades to a smile. "Nothing," Roxanne says softly, "but I love you anyway." She leans into his side. "Mmmm."

"Carlos is gonna come back and see us," Megamind tells her. She sniffs.

"Don't care."

He sends a nervous glance at the doorway. "Well, I do," he replies, more tersely than he had meant to. "Please get up."

Roxanne sighs, but nods and sits up just in time for Carlos to return. "The coast is clear," he announces, then blinks at Megamind, who has risen to his feet and is standing with his head up and his fists clenched. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Megamind says clearly, "nothing's wrong." He raises his chin even higher. "Roxanne Ritchi and I are dating."

Roxanne starts and stares up at him. "Megamind?"

Carlos, however, is nodding. "I thought you might be. Yes."

"Only," Megamind continues, "we aren't telling anyone yet. We're waiting for a couple more months. Can I trust you, please, not to tell anyone?"

Carlos grins. "Can I trust you, please, not to make me a blue cube again?" He looks the blue alien up and down, shaking his head. "Christ, watch your hands shake. Not a word."

Megamind nods, looking faintly disturbed. "Wonderful," he says flatly. "Thank you. Roxanne, we should—we should go. Now."

Roxanne starts to scramble to her feet, then pauses when the world tilts dangerously, and pushes herself up more slowly. Megamind is already in front of her, strapping his watch to her wrist.

"Be careful," he tells her, "and don't make any sudden, big moves. This isn't calibrated to you. If you do something unexpected, it might short out."

"But why—"

"Can't have everyone seeing Roxanne Ritchi climbing into a car with Megamind, can we?" Megamind points out. He twists the dial and activates the vocal overlay, then grins weakly up at Roxanne, whose blue eyes blink back at him out of Pavel's narrow face.

"Oh," Roxanne says with Pavel's voice. "Oh. Right." Then she blinks again and lifts a hand to her throat. "_Weird_," she exclaims, "this is _bizarre_." She looks down at her hands and her expression twists. "I don't…I don't think I like this," she admits, turning her hands over, moving her fingers.

"It takes some getting used to," Megamind tells her, and turns to Carlos. "Thank you," he says, and there's no faking the sincerity in his voice. "Thank you so much for helping us."

Carlos just nods and holds the door for him and the dark-haired young man at his side. At this point, he just wants them to leave so he can get back to pretending everything is normal.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

They walk to the car slowly, since Roxanne's head is still spinning a little and she can't lean on Megamind in her current state. She moves her hips too much while she walks—the disguise generator compensates for image and voice only; basic movements and vocal patterns are left the way they are—but the invisible car is parked on the sidewalk and Roxanne/Pavel doesn't have far to go, so Megamind doesn't comment.

He doesn't sense Roxanne relax until after the car is moving.

"How you doing?" he asks.

"I think I'm okay," Roxanne replies slowly, sounding a little surprised. "Yes. I'm pretty sure I'm okay. The past two hours have been a little weird but I think I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

Pavel's face twists in a wry smile. "Today, instead of being kidnapped, I saw two men shot to death in front of me and had a very brief, very _weird_ conversation with their killer. I got into a shouting match with my mother and revisited a lot of painful memories. I had a fight with you, which we resolved, and then we got to watch Minion and Wayne dance circles around each other over breakfast. I am worried about Wayne. My ex-boyfriend's body just fell off the roof of my apartment building and landed in front of me, and I was just handed his heart in a box. And it's barely noon." Roxanne takes a deep breath. "And yet, somehow, I feel…nothing." She spreads her hands. "I feel completely fine."

Megamind glances over at her. "Well, you—"

"So either I'm in shock, which, at this point, is pretty likely, _or_ there is something very, very wrong with me."

"Shock, probably." Megamind runs a yellow light.

"It's so _weird_." Roxanne continues as if she hasn't heard him. "You, I mean, your driving. Usually I'm a little nervous about your driving because you are a good driver but you're kind of a maniac, but right now I'm just sitting here like, _okay, Megamind is driving_. It's. That's a fact. I'm not nervous or anything.

"You know, I _like_ facts," she remarks suddenly, in the same decisive, pleased tone Megamind might use to say he _likes_ vats of acid. "You know where you stand with facts. They're like numbers, you know? You always know where you stand with them. Except for pi. I hate pi. I trust pi about as far as I can throw a Buick." She pauses. "…I wouldn't ordinarily be saying any of this, would I?"

"How far _can_ you throw a Buick?"

"Quantitatively? Zero centimeters."

Megamind turns left. He's trying very hard not to laugh; he's almost certain that wouldn't be appropriate. "In imperial units."

Roxanne scowls at him. She hates unit conversions, and Megamind knows it. "Three gallons, give or take a bushel."

"I see. Does that come with a cubit of water?"

"Sadly, no. But it does come with a rasher."

Megamind looks at her, startled. "Of—of bacon?"

Roxanne sends him a look that is genuinely puzzled. Suddenly, it isn't very funny anymore. "Does anything else come in rashers?"

"I…don't think so."

"That's something I've always wondered about," she admits. "Why the imperial system has such silly names for units. I mean, you've got a fathom, okay? And that's only about six feet, never mind that _fathom_ just _sounds_ deep. Just this huge, deep…unfathomable," she exclaims, and Megamind lets out an odd, wobbly noise that isn't quite a laugh. "Right? But a fathom is really only one-fifteenth of a shackle.

"So if I'm trying to figure out how long of an anchor chain to put on my warship—chain in this case being an actual chain and not a unit of measurement, because it's that too—I have to take two times the square root of the depth of water in fathoms. And that will give me the number of shackles of cable I need. And a cable is six hundred and eight feet. So then you have to convert the shackles of cable back to feet, unless you want to go ask the man at the shop for tumpty-one shackles of mooring chain. I don't know why you just don't ask for however many fathoms you'll need."

_What is she doing?_ Megamind wonders, and then the answer dawns. She's counting again. _This is just a complicated way of keeping order in her head._

"Oh, and as long as I'm ranting, NASA says the space station is two hundred and eleven nautical miles up. It is a space station! It is in space! Why are we measuring in _nautical miles?_ I mean, shouldn't we be measuring in…in astral miles, or something like that?"

"Yes, but an astral mile is one-tenth of a light-year," Megamind finally interrupts. "And the light-year to nautical mile conversion is an absolute nightmare."

Roxanne looks at him for a long moment before she replies. "You're lying."

He half-smiles. "About the astral miles, yes, but not the nightmare. There are more zeros in that figure than I usually like to tackle when I'm not actively doing mental gymnastics."

Roxanne folds Pavel's arms across her chest. "Okay, super-genius," she challenges, "how far up is the international space station in light-years?"

Megamind's face goes blank. The muscles around his eyes twitch once.

And then he says, "Four point one three zero forty-six thirty-one times ten to the power of negative eleven…ish. The calculation itself is simple, it's just the numbers that are hellish."

Roxanne lets out a long, measured breath. "Explain?"

"Okay, so we know that light travels at one hundred and eighty-six thousand miles per second. That's just something I know. And there are eighty-six thousand and four hundred seconds in a day and three-sixty-five days in a year, so we multiply them all together and find that there are approximately five point eight six five six nine six times ten to the power of twelve miles in one light year. Remember that.

"Six point zero eight feet in a fathom. Fifteen fathoms in a shackle. Six point seven six shackles in a cable, give or take a little, and ten cables in a nautical mile. So there are roughly six thousand and seventy-six feet in a nautical mile. Are you with me so far?"

Roxanne nods grimly. "Keep explaining."

"Six zero seven six feet in a nautical mile. In a normal mile, there are five two eight zero feet. So a nautical mile is roughly one point one five miles. Back to light years. To get how many nautical miles in a light year, we do one point one five divided by the five point eight six number. And we get one nautical mile equals roughly one point nine five seven six times ten to the power of negative thirteen.

"And then, of course, we just multiply that by two hundred and eleven, and there you go. 4.1304631e-11."

Silence from the passenger seat. Megamind glances over after a few seconds, only to find that Roxanne has her eyes squeezed tightly closed and both hands up as if she's clutching the air on both sides of her face.

"Are you—"

"_Shh_—_!_" She jerks a hand at him, and his mouth snaps shut.

They drive for a full four minutes before she lets out a low curse. Nearly ten more minutes pass before she speaks again, slowly, as if it hurts. "That's—not—right."

Megamind blinks. "What isn't?"

"That _number_," she says. "It isn't right, it doesn't work. It comes to 4.130_536_e-11. I'm sure it does. I'm _sure_ it does."

"Oh," says Megamind, as comprehension hits him like a ton of brick, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry—you're rounding your numbers, remember? You…you sort of have to do that."

Roxanne opens her eyes and looks at him as they pull to a halt at a red light. "And _you_ don't?"

"No," Megamind replies tightly. "I don't."

This is followed by an intensely awkward silence that lingers until the light changes. When the tires squeal out into the intersection, Roxanne clears her throat.

"Okay," she says, and her usual tone is back even if her voice is still masculine. "I think I'm okay now. The math helped. Thank you."

Megamind nods silently.

"What _was_ that, back there, by the way?" Roxanne doesn't sound argumentative, just confused. "You outed us to Carlos."

Megamind swallows and nods and doesn't mention rounding. "I was proving a point."

Roxanne recoils. "Proving a…what point? To whom?"

"To me. That you and I can be together in public. Sometimes. Some places." He huffs a sigh. "I mean…I want to be cool about it. Like you." Roxanne just _looks_ at him, and he fidgets. "Look," he finally bursts out, "_you're_ used to the limey-light, heck, you thrive there, but I don't _like_ people looking at me! And people looking at _us_, well, I just don't know. We probably _can_ come out before Christmas, if it means that much to you, but I just…I'm just…"

"Just what?"

He won't look at her. "I know you hate hiding, Roxanne, I know it bothers you, but I'm…I've been in the shadows for so long. I just feel safer this way."

Roxanne holds up her hands. "Whoa, wait. Hold on. Where is this coming from?"

Megamind opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He's not surprised. He has no idea what to say.

He's scared. It shouldn't be difficult to say, especially not to Roxanne of all people, but he's never admitted to being scared before.

In the silence, Pavel makes a frustrated noise and presses the stealth mode button on the center console. _Beedlededee_, the car chirps, and shimmers out of visibility. Megamind adjusts his driving automatically, and a moment later, there's a flash of blue light to his right. He glances over, only to find Pavel blinking down at a puffy parka from behind a thick balaclava.

"I forgot he had this," Roxanne mumbles, and turns the dial of the watch two clicks in the other direction. Now she's sitting in a pressed wool suit. "I give up, how do you deactivate this crazy thing?"

"Just take it off," Megamind says, "I'd do it for you but I'm driving."

Roxanne nods and starts to unhook the watch. The illusion jumps and goes fuzzy, and then an automated voice makes Roxanne and Megamind both jump. _Warning_, the voice says, _disguise generator compromised. Please check that it is fastened securely._

Megamind growls. "Code: Turn Off The Watch."

The illusion flashes blue once more, and Roxanne finds herself looking down at her own hands.

"Sorry," Megamind grumbles. "I didn't think—I programmed a bunch of warnings in after the restaurant malfunction."

Roxanne manages a smile. "So I guess it's waterproof now, too?"

"Naturally, dear lady," he grins, then drops the smug expression and coy tone as abruptly as he had picked them up. He sighs, starts to say something, stops, sighs again.

"You're right, you know," Roxanne says quietly. "I am used to the limelight." Megamind mutters something about 'silent _E_' and a 'Great Vowel Shift.' Roxanne isn't sure what that's about, so she passes it by. "And you aren't. Not as _you_, I mean, not as Megamind."

He cuts her a sideways glance. "I've always been Megamind."

"No you haven't. _MEHHHGA-MIND_," Roxanne crows, in her very best approximation of her companion's Evil Villain inflection, and is rewarded by seeing him jump. "_Him_, yes. _Supervillain_ you is used to being looked at and filmed and criticized and vilified. Supervillain you was fine with that. But now the supervillain is gone, and it's just you, isn't it?" She looks at him. "In front of everybody."

Megamind stares straight ahead, shoulders tense, almost flinching. Roxanne just _looks_ for a moment, studies him, the way he's sitting, the way his hands are clenched on the wheel. "Wayne's not the only one having an identity crisis, is he?"

Megamind's jaw clenches. It's a long few seconds before he manages to say, "No."

Roxanne nods. "You wanna talk about it?"

He takes a shuddery sort of breath, not the kind that happens after crying but the kind that happens when you're so unsure that you don't even know where to look, let alone what to say. "I…yeah."

"Wait, really?" It's a knee-jerk response.

"No. Yes? I don't know. I don't know anything anymore. The rebuild project was good, but now it's almost over. I have to come up with something new?" He shakes his head, huffs frustration through his nose. "I can't be me. Not for them. For you, for Minion – Wayne – but not out there, not for them. For you, I will give as accurate an answer as your language will allow, but I'll give them rounding errors every time."

"Of course you can—"

"No, Roxanne." He glances at her. "No, I can't. I don't even know who I'm supposed to be, really. I'm trying not to be the villain anymore, but it's…it's hard sometimes, you know, when the board is breathing down my neck, and I'm doing the best I can, and I'm trying to uphold the law…

"The law, now _there's_ a problem." He lets out a short little laugh. "Some of my strongest allies are on the wrong side of the law. Some of them have helped me. I'm not gonna turn them in! I'm not. But that's what a hero does, isn't it?"

"But you're not a hero," Roxanne tells him, and he finally looks at her again, a long, slow look.

"Thanks," he finally says. "Everyone else keeps telling me I am."

Roxanne shakes her head. "It's like Wayne said. You can be whoever, whatever, you want to be." She pauses. "So what do you want to be?"

Megamind thinks about that one for a while, which doesn't happen often. He's still driving, which makes Roxanne a little nervous because his eyes are so far away, but he's still weaving in and out of traffic like a pro so she just tightens her seatbelt and waits.

Finally, he speaks again, and it's not the long answer she had expected.

"Safe." He blinks once and looks over at her, and _god_, he looks tired. And a little bit embarrassed. "I want to be safe. I want…I want to make this city safe."

Roxanne blinks. "Well, that's a noble—"

"No." Megamind corrects himself, frowning. "I want to make this city a _stronghold_. That's the problem. I don't want anybody in this city to get hurt or robbed or killed or anything. I mean, I know those things will happen. But I want it to happen as little as possible. I can't operate inside the law if I want that."

"But that's what the law is _for_," Roxanne points out.

"Well, then clearly it isn't working and I must circumvent it!"

Roxanne folds her hands together and taps her index fingers together nervously. "Pretty sure what you're talking about is less circumvention and more…actual breaking. Vigilantism."

Megamind shrugs. "Batman is more my style than Superman, anyway. I don't _want_ to be a hero. I guess…" He frowns harder. "I guess that's part of the problem." He looks over at Roxanne, suddenly worried. "Is that okay?"

She laughs. "Honey, you're still okay. I don't care if you're a hero or not. You'll keep the city safe, one way or another, and all's well that ends well. That's kind of what you've always done, isn't it?" Megamind flushes.

"It was selfish," he mutters. "I just didn't want anybody to be able to get to _me_."

Roxanne just grins and pats him on the shoulder. "You're a good man, Charlie Brown. Nothing you do will change that."

Megamind snorts. "Jury's still out on that one."

"Really? I thought it delivered the verdict ages ago."

"It did, but I made a motion for judgment N.O.V."

"Well, the motion was denied." _Does it still count as banter,_ Roxanne wonders, _if it's weirdly technical?_

"Doesn't matter; I appealed."

Roxanne sniffs. "Maybe I affirmed the trial court's judgment."

"Maybe I took it to the federal court!"

"Which affirmed the original verdict! Further litigation would be pointless!"

"_Argh_," Megamind cries. If he hadn't been driving he would have thrown his hands up. "You just never give up, do you?"

Roxanne settles back in her seat, looking smug. "Sweetie, I dated a law student for three years and pretended to date Wayne for six, all the while getting kidnapped and teased by a man with more Ph. Ds than he knows what to do with. I learned from the best."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Years of kidnapping have left their mark, and Roxanne bounces back from her experience surprisingly quickly, although she freely admits that she's probably not going to sleep very well for a while. She's just very good at compartmentalizing.

So when they get back to the Lair, she takes a hot shower and crawls into comfortable clothing, then sits down to work on a growing list of things to leave at the apartment while Megamind finishes up 'a project' and runs a quick errand.

Roxanne hears him heading for the door and manages to catch him before he leaves, and Megamind smiles at her. It's tentative, though – uncertain, and he seems a little wild around the edges, and Roxanne is struck suddenly with the realization that he is probably _this close_ to bugging out again. He's on completely new ground, after all. She knows how much he hates that.

But he smiles for her anyway. "You'll be okay until I get back?"

Roxanne nods, then surprises him by pressing her forehead against his for a long moment. "I'll be okay."

"It-it's just, you aren't okay _now_. I sort of don't want to go." This is accompanied by a nervous laugh.

Roxanne pulls back and takes his face in her hands. _It's funny_, she thinks, _I've never dated anyone who was the same height as me before_. "Look," she says, "I've been…okay, no, I haven't been through worse. Not all in one day. But cumulatively, really, today could have been worse. I'll be fine."

He blinks at her. "But…"

"Look at it this way. I've gotten through some tough shit without you before, right?" Roxanne raises her eyebrows. "I think I can make it a few hours while you're gone. Besides, Minion will be here."

"And you'll call me if you need anything?" His brow furrows.

She smiles then, a real smile. "Of course I will," she tells him. "There's nobody I'd rather call."

Megamind half-smiles. "Strange as that sounds?"

"Strange as that sounds," Roxanne agrees with a laugh. "Yes. Come on, now, you have places to go and people to see, and I need to finish my list. I'll see you later."

Megamind nods. Then, impulsively, he hugs her, a brief, desperate squeeze just before he turns and swirls away to the door, leaving Roxanne blinking after him.

She realizes that she had forgotten to ask where he was going. _Oh well, I'll ask when he gets home_.

Shaking her head, she returns to the sofa and sprawls full-length, clipboard in front of her, tapping the end of her pen against her lips. "So the bed and bureau will stay," she mutters to herself, "along with most of the rest of the furniture and the mechanical appliances. Hmm. I'll need to ask about storage here at the Lair…"

She jots down specifics as they come to her, planning absently, her thoughts scattered and disjointed.

She's moving in with Megamind. _She_ is _moving in_ with _Megamind_.

_Weird_. She knows it's weird. So why does it feel so utterly amazing? Two years ago, if someone had told her she'd be moving in with her blue kidnapper, she'd have called that person mad. Now, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

The only thing she's nervous about is the fact that the Lair is very much Megamind's territory. Roxanne is confident and comfortable with the building, the machines, and the odd pitfalls and traps here and there, but none of it is _hers_. Not yet. As much as Megamind will insist, if Roxanne wanted to change something, she wouldn't be comfortable doing so without asking Megamind's permission first. She wants a part of it to be _hers_, just so that she has a place over which she'll have complete control until she really settles in.

"Miss Ritchi?"

Roxanne looks up to find Minion standing in the doorway with her cell phone in one hand. He looks mortified. "Minion?" she says, surprised. "What's wrong?"

"Your phone rang. And I—I thought it was Scott, so I answered it. I know I shouldn't have! I'm sorry!"

"It wasn't Wayne," Roxanne guesses. Minion shakes his head.

"No," he says in a small voice. "It wasn't. I don't know who it was. I said 'hello' and he said 'wait who's this' and I panicked and said 'Kevin's Pizza, how can I help you,' and then he said 'wait what,' and I panicked and hung up."

Roxanne snorts. "It's okay, Minion, just…just don't answer my phone in the future, okay? Who was it?"

He nods. "I don't know. Here."

Roxanne checks the call log. "Oh! It was Drew. Hmm."

Minion's fins fan out anxiously. "What are we gonna do? What are we gonna tell him?"

"No idea," Roxanne replies, already dialing, "I'll just wing it. Hey, Drew, how's it going?"

Her brother sounds amused. "Hey, hey, hey, Little Sister. Who picked up before?"

Roxanne laughs. "A friend of mine who thought you were somebody else."

"And his default reaction was to pretend this was a pizzeria? That's _awesome_." Drew has always had a lot of respect for the entropic. "Who _is_ this guy? He sounds like good times."

"We, uh, we call him Minnie."

"What, is that supposed to be ironic or something, or does he look like a mouse?"

"Oh no, yeah, he's, he's huge. Gigantic." Roxanne glances up at Minion and winks, and the fish hides a grin behind a massive metal hand. "Built like a gorilla. What's up?"

"Oh, uh," Drew hems for a minute. "I just, you know. Heard about you and, uh, Mom. Are you—you're not still coming down for Thanksgiving, are you."

"I'm still coming down," Roxanne assures him, and then has to hold the phone away from her ear when he cheers. "I haven't disowned the family, or anything, I just…don't want to hear from Mom for a while. But I'll be there."

"Do I need to come pick you up at the train station or the airport?"

"I'm thinking of borrowing Pavel's car," Roxanne says, "but I'll let you know closer to the date. My current plan is to head down on Friday, get there on Monday, and stay through the following Friday and shoot to get home Sunday or Monday of the following week."

"Wow, that's _awesome_," Drew blurts out. "That's a lot longer than I expected you to be able to take off! I can't wait! You gonna stay with me, then? On my sofa?"

Roxanne leans back in her chair. "Well, if your current squeeze doesn't mind too much, that'd be great. _Are_ you seeing anyone? I can't keep track."

"Oh, well, you know," Drew says, and Roxanne can just _see_ him bobbing his head back and forth as he hedges. "Kinda, sometimes. Nothing, you know, _serious_ or anything, we just tend to…run into one another. On occasion."

"With your crotches," Roxanne states, nonplussed.

"_Wellllll_…yes. Maybe. A bit."

"Do I get to meet…?" Roxanne used to try to guess, but with Drew, it's safest not to assume anything.

"Her," Drew clarifies, "and probably not. We really aren't a _thing_."

Roxanne laughs and nods. "Okay, okay, I get it, I'll stop asking. Can I at least know her name?"

"Alex. So I take it this means Pavel _isn't_ coming with you this time?" Drew sounds a little disappointed.

"No, sorry. But I'm thinking about dragging him down with me for Christmas. Him and Minn—" Sudden movement catches Roxanne's attention and she looks up to see Minion shaking his head rapidly and mouthing, _No_. "—Oh! Looks like Minnie has other plans. Just Pavel, then."

"Like, to the beach house?"

"Yeah. You think that's a good idea?"

"I think that's an amazing idea, and if you do not do it, I will be very sad."

Roxanne's lips twitch. "Well, we can't have that."

"Indeed we can't." There's a pause, and then Drew accuses, "You're using your I'm-busy voice."

"Oh good, it's working."

"What'cha working on?"

"A list. I'm moving in with Pavel."

Ringing silence.

"Hello?"

"Are you sure about this?" Drew's voice has gone very flat. "Annie, are you _sure?_"

"Yes, I—"

"Only, it's only been four months, and it's hard to leave once you've moved all your stuff. As you know."

Roxanne scowls. "I've known Pavel for years, and don't call me Annie. And the apartment is mine until May! If this doesn't work out, I'll move back. For heaven's sake, Drew, anyone would think you haven't been emailing back and forth with this guy about everything and a bag of chips."

"Yeah, okay," Drew mutters. "I know. I just worry about you. Your support network is…well, you don't really have one up there. You have Jo, and you _had_ Wayne, but other than that…"

"I know, Drew. I really am okay." _Today, I learned what sound a body makes when it falls twenty stories_, she doesn't say. "Listen, I have to get back to work—I do want to head into the office later today if I can, so I need to finish this list. Talk to you later, maybe? Sorry to cut this short, I know we don't talk much."

"No, it's okay, I'm working on something, too," Drew admits, "and it's…time-sensitive? I'm pretty much booked for the week."

"I'll talk to you at some point, then. What are you working on?"

"A commission, actually. My buyer wants a compound designed to slow down thought processes—I think they do private research on biochemistry. I dunno, it's a challenge."

Roxanne grins. There's nothing Drew loves more than a challenge. "Well, I'll let you get back to your puzzle, then. Have fun."

"Oh, I plan to. Cheers, Annie."

"Bye." Roxanne hangs up and, grinning, returns to her list.

A few seconds later, she gets a text from Drew. _So what does Megs think of your new boy? Jealous? U 2 still in touch at all?_

Rolling her eyes, Roxanne responds, _Yes we're in touch. Carnally. On an almost nightly basis_.

Ding! says her phone. _Lol I knew it. Is Pavel OK with that?_

_U kidding?_ Roxanne types back, grinning. _He's the one filming it._

There's a longer pause this time. _Don't worry, I won't joke about this with Pavel._

_I don't think he'll mind_, Roxanne types, and almost, _almost_ hits 'Send.' But, at the last minute, she deletes it. Instead, she types out, _That's probably a good idea_.

She looks at it for a moment, then sends it.


	14. Chapter 14

Final chapter! If I look at it one more time, my eyes will leap out of my head and run away, screaming, across the floor (the edited version of this fic should be up on my livejournal in a month or so, assuming I can get my act together). Only the epilogue after this. It's been a long one, folks, but a fun one. This story is off the ground, now, and on its way to cruising altitude. Captain is going to turn off the 'fasten seatbelt' sign pretty soon. Everything is going to be awesome. Maybe the steward will even pass out those little bags of too-salty pretzels.

Coming up next: It's Christmas in San Francisco, and Megamind meets Roxanne's family! Hilarity ensues.

Oh, yes—Megamind and Wayne _both_ have nictitating membranes, it turns out. I was a little hesitant to put that in, at first, because there's no reason to believe that two different species from two different planets would exhibit similar morphology. That being said, I have a hard time ignoring my headcanon, which is that Megamind's species is semi-aquatic while Wayne's species spent almost all of its time airborne…so nictitating membranes would make sense for both species. Hopefully I will be able to mention Megamind's biology a little bit more in _Cold Fusion: Twelve Days_ (hint, hint!).

As always, thank you all so much for your support and encouragement, and thank you for reading (and if you find any typos, please let me know!). You're amazing. No, seriously, this fic is absolutely crazy-long and I am deeply impressed and flattered that you've made it this far with me—I wouldn't be writing, if not for you guys; it really is that simple. All the hugs forever.

Stravinsky's Elegy for Solo Viola can be found here: www. youtube. com/ watch? v= AGFTe8AI6oE

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14<strong>

The lock on the trapdoor doesn't take him fifteen seconds to bypass. Megamind shoves it up and away, then climbs up the final few stairs and pokes his head up into gale-force wind.

He needs to get away. Just for a little while, just for a few minutes, he needs to be somewhere nobody goes, and he can only think of one place that fits the bill.

The urge to seek solitude is new, and he's not quite sure what to make of it. He had been driving to the Fortress with the radio turned off and all of a sudden, he had felt…overwhelmed. Not _tired_, not the way he had felt back in August when he had still been getting his bearings. This feels more like resolve or resignation. Whatever it is, it's making his mouth dry out and tension gather in his shoulders and neck.

He climbs out onto the tiny platform and immediately stumbles when the wind tears at his long coat. He staggers to the metal supports for the Spire and uses them to regain his balance while he looks out over the city, the wind making his eyes burn until he gives in and sweeps his seldom-used second eyelids closed. The relief is quick, and he makes a mental note to use them as wind protection in the future—up until now, he's only bothered with them underwater.

_I'm such an alien_, he thinks, sinking to sit with his back to the pole and his knees to his chest. The air is freezing up here, and Megamind shivers a little, but he doesn't mind the cold as much as humans do. Another reminder of what he is.

The city spreads itself before him, as vast and complex as the lake at its edge. Megamind knows both city and lake by heart—the places you go, the places you don't. The Danger Zones, the rules, the passwords, the hand gestures and things you keep in your pocket. This is his city, this is his _home_. No matter what happens he belongs here as much as he can belong anywhere. Metro has been his playground for so many years, and he honestly can't imagine living anywhere else.

Except that everything is changing. He's glad it is, he likes the changes, but—it's not the same. He can't play around anymore, he has to be serious. An adult. He can't plot Wayne's demise anymore, he can't attack the city anymore, he can't laugh and caper in front of the cameras and do his mad dance for appreciatively cowering audiences. The bumbling, funny villain has had to step aside, and a more sober, forward-thinking Megamind has stepped up to take his place.

_I can't just think about me, now_.

For the first time, he recognizes and tests the weight of the responsibility that has slowly settled on his shoulders over the past few months. It's no different from what it had been before Wayne had disappeared, is it? The only thing that's changed is the way people think of him, what they expect from him. Is that enough to change who he is? He doesn't think so, but then, he's started to lose track of where the villain stopped and he began.

The wind shrieks at him, howls past his ears and pulls his coat away before whipping it back against the pole behind him. Megamind lets the wind scream; he has other things to think about. He sees his childhood—such as it had been—in this city, sees it in a thousand little back alleys and a million shady transactions, hears it in the sirens and hum of traffic, and suddenly he's homesick for a six-by-eight room and a hard cot and no need to worry about anyone but himself and Minion.

He thinks of Uncle Mitch and Uncle Guduza, raising him as best they could, keeping him away from the more dangerous inmates until he was big enough to handle himself. He remembers Mitch teaching him how to throw a punch and fall so that he wouldn't hurt himself; Guduza showing him how to fight with a hard stick that Megamind had needed to hide from the guards. He remembers Mitch reading to him at bedtime—_Twelfth Night_ and _Oedipus the King_ because "a growing boy's got to have a bit of culture to balance out the quantum stuff," switching to _Oedipus Rex_ in stammering Latin when Megamind had turned nine to keep the boy's mind sharp. He remembers Guduza's bass accent asking him as he got into bed, "What you learn today, Fanyana?" and listening attentively until Megamind fell asleep. He remembers how, when he had returned from Washington and Uncle Guduza had greeted him as Mzwamandla instead of Fanyana, he had been confused and upset until Minion had explained.

He remembers the one and only time he had ever used a racial slur. Guduza had laid him flat on the ground in the exercise yard, black eyes blazing as he followed the boy down and planted a hand in the middle of his chest to pin him. "Mitch and me raised you better. You gonna call me kaffir? There's lines you do not cross; there's things you don't say, and I ain't _never_ gonna hear you say them things again, _ngiyaqonda na?_"

"_Ng-ngiyezwa_," Megamind had stammered. Guduza had nodded and pulled him to his feet and that had been the end of it.

He remembers Dan, the young guard who had taken him to the Y on Monday nights for nearly three months and taught him to swim before he was transferred to another prison. Remembers him crouching, big hands wrapping the towel around Megamind's shoulders, remembers him saying, "There's nothing wrong with you, boy, and don't you let anybody tell you different. You're worth ten of them and they know it…they're just scared you'll end up their boss someday."

He remembers Nikolai, who had thrown him to the floor and covered him with his body when a fight in Mess had turned into a riot. Megamind had learned Russian to thank him properly—Niko had been startled, then appreciative. A year later, he'd been released and Megamind had never seen him again.

Billy the Kid, who had been Uncle Bill to Megamind, had been slow-witted but crafty: a killer for hire who, given enough time, could figure a way into—and out of—even the most secure facilities. He disappeared from the Prison for the Criminally Gifted in mid-November when Megamind had been five years old. Three years later, very early Christmas morning, Megamind had jumped awake to the rustling-cloth sound of someone crouching by his bed only to find himself staring into laughing green eyes above a wiry black beard with more grey in it than Megamind had remembered.

Bill had chuckled silently and put a finger to his lips, gesturing _Shhh_, then winked and handed Megamind a clumsily-wrapped box with dancing Santas on the paper as he had mouthed the words _Happy Christmas_. Then he had ducked forward and given the little boy a steel-wool kiss on the cheek that smelled like whiskey and a rub on the head that would have been a friendly tousle if Megamind had had any hair, and when Megamind had looked back up to thank the man, he had been alone.

The note scrawled on the package had read, _I got thes for you after I exskap __escaped__ but I herd you went missing. Got a call bout a week ago and herd you was __wer__ back in town. Somday when you make it big time I hop you remembr __remember__ your old uncle. Drop me a line somtime 304-363-2312. Happy Christmas with love from 'Uncle Bill'_

Inside had been Megamind's first set of professional-grade lock picks, brand new and shiny from a man who usually spent all his money on booze. Megamind had sat in bed in his pajamas and looked at them, tears welling in his eyes, and then he had written a letter that Bill had never answered.

The memories fly in front of him, names and faces flashing across his mind, everyone who had a hand in his upbringing, every kind hand that touched him, every kind word that had been spoken. Very few had stayed for more than a few years, but Megamind remembers them regardless and he wonders what they would think of him if they saw him today. He also wonders, as always, what his mother and father would think. Would they be proud? He hopes so, but there's no real way to be sure.

He tips his head back and stares at the top of the Spire. The clouds flying past make it seem like it's tilting over, but he knows that's ridiculous; nothing _he_ built would dare tip over.

Then he frowns. Blinks. _I built this_, he realizes. He turns and presses his hand against the support. Not only had he built the Spire, but he had also reconstructed all the lost floors that Titan had torn away and re-furnished them. He had fixed the damages to the stores, re-paved the roads, and the top of the building just over there, the tall one, he had renovated the interior and rebuilt the smashed parts.

He falls limply back, staring around at the city with new eyes. Simple defense of his home, well, that's one thing, but he could _do_ something with this place. Make it a cleaner place to live. He could _make_ something here.

_Destruction_, he thinks, _destruction is easy, but creation? That's different. That's hard_.

He suddenly remembers storming into Hal's apartment and feeling repulsed at what he had found. _"All your gifts, all your powers, and you—you squander them for your own personal gain?"_

"_Yes!"_

"_No!"_ He had felt so _angry_—how dare Hal take the incredible gift he had been given and throw it away like that? People would love him, he could help them, he could make something of himself, he could do _everything _Megamind had only ever been able to _dream_ about, and he had thrown that away as if it were nothing. It had been a slap in the face.

_Maybe it's not that I couldn't do it_, Megamind thinks. He rubs a hand over the cold metal he's sitting on, frowning in thought. _Maybe it's that I gave up trying_.

Then, abruptly, he laughs and rolls to his feet. The wind shrieks with renewed vigor, but Megamind throws his arms out and spins in place, hooks a hand around a support strut and leans out to swing around the strut in a joyful arc before letting go and planting his feet. "All right!" he shouts, though to whom, he isn't sure. "All right, I'll do it! One more go at being good, one last time, you and me." What does he have to lose, anyway? _Roxanne_, he thinks, but no—he's not going to lose Roxanne unless he _tries_ to lose her; she's not that type.

She really isn't. Something turns over in his head, and he _feels_ it—she's not going to get bored. Part of him still doesn't quite believe it, but now, suddenly, that part is in the minority. It clicks. He grins, and then he's smiling, and then he's laughing.

The world is changing, Megamind is tired, and he thinks he might be getting old, but so what? Life is for living. Megamind is going to _live_.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

He pulls up outside the Fortress with nervousness clawing at the pit of his stomach despite his inexplicable good mood, and he wonders absently how long it will take him to get over the trepidation he feels about visiting Wayne on his home turf. He's sure part of his worry is because he's dropping in unannounced. _But that's what friends _do_, isn't it?_ he thinks as he turns off the car and climbs out. _Not that I would know_. But that's going to change.

The wind off the bay is sharp and smells like snow, and Megamind stares at the grey waves for a few seconds before shivering involuntarily and heading for the shoolhouse. Lost in thought, he's about halfway down the tunnel before he registers that he's hearing music and stops walking. He blinks, tilting his head. Considering who he's visiting, Megamind wouldn't be surprised if it were guitar music, but it isn't; it's viola.

His brow furrows in confusion. _Wayne listens to classical viola?_ He hadn't expected that. Wayne had mentioned music before, but Megamind hadn't thought he'd been talking about classical. He moves quietly to the door at the end of the tunnel, then pushes it open and peers into the memorabilia chamber. That's when Megamind's understanding of the world creaks on its axis because, no, Wayne does not _listen _to classical viola.

Wayne _plays _classical viola.

Megamind can feel his eyes getting wider and wider, but he can't move. He knows this song: Stravinsky's _Elegy for Solo Viola_. He'd had to give a brief presentation on the composer back in high school, and he had decided to focus on the Elegy because it had been the only piece that presented any kind of challenge.

Wayne is floating there and_ playing it_. The implications hit Megamind like a physical blow and he ducks back and presses himself against the wall of the tunnel, feels the door bump almost closed against his foot, feels his heart hammering in his chest.

"_It doesn't sound that hard," Metro Dude says, smirking down at the blue alien by the stereo. The music room is arranged amphitheater-style, with raised rows of seats around a central stage._

_Megamind just looks at him. He has learned the hard way not to respond when Wayne uses a certain tone. It's difficult, but he bites his tongue._

"_Yeah," says the boy next to Wayne. "I mean. It's not even fast."_

"_Speed and difficulty are not mutually inclusive," Megamind says flatly. "The tonal dissonance makes this piece a challenge to learn because it's so hard to be sure if you're playing the correct notes. It doesn't sound right. Also, you could play with perfect technique and it would still be sub-par because you, Kenneth, and you, Metro Douche, do not have the range of emotion to even begin to comprehend this piece."_

_Metro Dude lounges in his chair, putting his hands behind his head and crossing his ankles in front of him. "Big words from a little guy," he drawls. "I bet I could do it."_

_The smirk he's wearing is the one that Megamind has sworn never to direct at anyone else. Superior smirks are fine, knowing smirks are good, evil smirks are even better – lazy smirks are just insulting. Megamind hates that smirk. Hates it enough that, without thinking, he snaps, "Prove it."_

_He can't stand it; he's already gone this far already and now he's well and truly _pissed off_, so he drops the quiet school persona for a moment and lets his real personality shine through. He brings out the lounging, sardonic Megamind who so rarely shows himself in public, and he sneers for all he's worth._

"_You couldn't play this if your life depended on it," he spits. "You don't have the emotional capacity; you can't feel anything for anyone but yourself. You're as much of a freak as I am, you aren't even _human_. Overblown, overhyped, overgrown, narcissistic example of genetic deficiency. You won't be able play this for the single solitary reason that _you do not have a soul_."_

_Kenneth bursts out laughing, and the rest of the class follows suit. "Oh, he'll learn it," he snickers, punching Metro Dude in the arm. Wayne is sitting very still and looking at Megamind, but Kenneth doesn't notice a thing. "I could learn it, too. Gimme some time, hey, Freak? Like twenty years, huh?"_

Goddamn, Wayne had been serious. He had said he could do it, all those years ago, but never in Megamind's wildest dreams had he ever thought the other boy could possibly have been _serious_.

Megamind frowns. How has he managed to avoid finding out about this? _Elegy_ is not something most first-year violists play, not _well_, and Wayne has always been more interested in rock and roll and guitars. Facts are facts, though, and the fact is that there's more emotion singing through the _Elegy_ than Megamind has ever seen Wayne express in person.

_I should go_.

He's intruding. This is like…this is like Wayne coming to the Lair and staring through Megamind's telescope. Megamind cannot be here. It's wrong.

He turns to leave and the door swings fully shut with a _click_. The music inside cuts off; a split second later the door bangs open and Megamind leaps and spins and backs away, knowing he probably looks as guilty as he feels.

Wayne fills the doorway, staring down at him, instrument in one hand, emotions flashing over his features too quickly for Megamind to keep up – there's indignation, and there's anger, oh yes. There's also a lot more fear than Megamind had expected to see there.

Megamind can't meet his eyes, but he has to say _something_. "I…stand corrected." He manages a weak smile. "About the Stravinsky."

Wayne blinks, lets out a long, slow breath and shifts his weight a little. "I—thanks. What are you—no, never mind. Thanks."

There's going to be an awkward silence in a minute if Megamind isn't careful. He grabs for a question, blurts it out. "How long have you been playing?"

"Started when I was six." Wayne's voice is flat. Dull. He doesn't elaborate, despite the fact that Megamind is nearly dancing with anxiety.

_Open-ended, keep the questions open-ended_, Megamind curses himself. "Why the viola? Why not the guitar?"

"I _wanted _to play the guitar. Mom said no, I had to learn a classical instrument. I had to pick something; she wouldn't let any child of hers grow up without music training. "

"And…you picked the viola?" Megamind can't quite wrap his head around that one.

Wayne bristles. "So what?"

"_So_," Megamind says slowly, "you made it sound like you only recently picked up the guitar. Why haven't you tried before this?"

Wayne's face slams closed. "You know, I'd really rather not go into that, little buddy."

Megamind sighs and slumps, lounging awkwardly against the wall. "I'm—I don't know what I'm doing, all right?" He scowls at the floor. "I'm trying to make conversation, but you've got to give me something to work with or we're going to end up staring at each other like two kids at a middle school dance."

The ghost of a smile tugs at the corner of Wayne's mouth. "All right, I get it. Just…come inside, okay? I don't wanna talk out here."

Megamind nervously follows him inside, making the mental note not to ask about the guitar again. "So…you play the viola."

"And the cello. Badly."

"Huh." Megamind sits gingerly on the armchair, glancing around, and Wayne flops down onto the couch.

"What's that s'posed to mean?"

"N-nothing, just…" Megamind trails off. "I don't know. Figured you'd be more of a bass man. Or trumpets, more like, or maybe a…a saxophone? A trombone, even. Some kind of…"

Wayne cocks an eyebrow. "Horn?"

Megamind presses his lips together. "Some kind of 'not the viola.'"

"I like the bassoon," Wayne mumbles, "but that's a reed. I guess the trumpet isn't bad, for brass. I never really cared enough to learn much about orchestral music."

A tense silence descends. Megamind twiddles his thumbs, adjusts his gloves.

"Do you know anything about a guy named Sundown?" he finally asks. They're not going to get anywhere talking about music, that's for damn sure. Might as well just change the subject and be done with it—besides, none of this is why he's here.

"I know _of_ him." Wayne plucks absently at one of the strings, sending up a puff of rosin. "Heard of him, more like. I don't think I've ever met him."

Megamind nods, resigned. It had been a long shot anyway. "You'd remember. Listen, I, uh, I have something for you. If you want it."

Wayne shakes his head tiredly. "Dude, you keep _bringing_ me stuff. Food and glass and stuff. What's up with that?"

Megamind gives an awkward shrug and tosses him something. Wayne catches it and turns it over, a puzzled frown briefly replacing the blank stare.

"A watch?"

"Put it on."

Wayne blinks, but clips the watch around his wrist. It's a nice watch, he has to admit, though he doesn't recognize the model and it's sort of a weird gift to be getting from Megamind. "Okay, it looks good, but what…"

"Now twist the face one click to the right."

There's a flash of bluish light and a muttering sound, and Wayne stares down at his hands. They've darkened nearly two shades, and the tips are blunt, the nails bitten short. "What the—"

Megamind holds out a hand mirror, and Wayne looks into it, sees reddish blonde cropped hair parted on the side and slicked down. An even smile with crooked teeth behind it. Hazel-brown eyes.

He looks at Megamind. "What the hell?"

Megamind is smirking. _Wayne is confused, and I am a genius—we're back on solid ground!_ "Minion and I made it. It's the latest model of disguise generator. Waterproof to one hundred and forty feet, shatterproof, and as aerodynamic as Minion could make it, although I told him I didn't think you'd care, Mr. I-Love-Tassels."

Wayne rises and walks to his bedroom to use the full-length mirror there. Megamind trails behind him, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, still talking. "He's got a whole wardrobe, but just for the winter – I'll have Nibs program in some new clothes when the weather changes. See those notches on the dial? Each of those is a separate outfit." He pauses while Wayne plays with the watch, looking at the various options. "We took the idea from Pavel, my human persona."

Wayne turns. He looks completely stunned. "_Why?_"

"So you can get out more," Megamind shrugs. "I dunno. So you can walk around without worrying. Why not?" He pulls an envelope out of his pocket and waves it at Wayne before tossing it on the dresser by the door. "That's got a driver's license and birth certificate in it. Oh, and a checkbook. You've got a new bank account. I transferred your savings into it—holy _shit_, by the way, and do you ever plan on actually _spending_ any of that?—your new name is Benjamin Atherton Sterling."

Wayne's eyebrows reach for the ceiling. "_Benjamin Atherton Sterling?_"

Megamind grins. "It was the most pretentious-sounding name I could come up with. Consider yourself lucky; Minion and Nibs wanted to name you Clark Kent, but I put my foot down."

"Can I be Ben?"

Megamind shrugs. "It's your name, do whatever you want with it. I advise against 'Benji,' though. Sounds like a small, obnoxious dog."

Wayne just stands there for a moment and stares at Megamind, bewildered; then he darts forward and drags the smaller alien into a bone-crushing hug. Megamind stiffens – over Wayne's shoulder, he can see himself in the mirror, looking hilariously surprised.

"Thanks, little buddy." Wayne puts him down again, as roughly as he'd picked him up. "I just—you're just—I can't say how much—"

Megamind stumbles a little when his feet hit the ground, but he straightens quickly and brushes himself off with quick, sharp movements. "It's fine, I know. I'm amazing and wonderful and brilliant, right? Tell me something I _don't_ know." For a moment, he's the villain again, all cool tone and swinging inflection.

Wayne lets out a strained-sounding laugh.

Megamind changes the subject. "So, for Halloween next year, I'm thinking I might do something, some kind of costume thing. I don't know if you're planning on ever coming out of hiding, but…So I was thinking, if you do, and maybe even if you don't because it'd be super-fun and disguises are sort of the whole _point_ of Halloween – I should go as you. And you should go as me. I mean we should wear each other's costumes."

"I dunno, I think my suit might be a _little_ big on you. You'll have to lift a lot of weights to reach my pectoral girth."

Megamind scoffs and flaps a hand at him. "Oh, don't be so ob-tuss. You know what I mean."

Wayne does, and he has to admit that that does sound pretty funny. "Maybe that could _be_ my coming-out-of-hiding debut," he suggests, half-joking as he follows Megamind back towards the trophy room. "I could, I dunno, mount an attack on the city. And you could stop me. For old times' sake."

Megamind groans. "They would hate you so much if you did that."

"They're gonna hate me anyway."

"Not if you play your cards right," Megamind says slowly. "I don't think so. Some will, of course—but if you explain, if you talk to them, they might understand." He shrugs into his coat and sends a careful glance up at the big ex-hero. "I did."

"Yeah, but you're not like them," Wayne mutters, then shakes himself and opens the door while Megamind tugs his gloves on.

Megamind starts towards the door, then stops. "Do you remember," he says slowly, "the time you were taking me to jail, and you asked me if I was okay because you said it was your turn to ask?"

The question catches Wayne by surprise. "That was after you stopped coming to school, right? Yeah, I remember that one. Something was up with Minion, right?"

Megamind nods and looks up at him. "You let me go. Why did you do that?"

Wayne shrugs. "Dunno. It just felt like the right thing to do." It wasn't _quite_ a lie. He suspects Megamind knows that his answer was guarded, but the blue man just nods again.

"But it wasn't the legal thing." Megamind is frowning. "You should have turned me in."

Wayne's eyes narrow, then widen. _Oh, no_, he thinks. _No, no, no_. "Tell me you aren't thinking about becoming a hero, little buddy."

Megamind's lip curls. "No!" he says sharply, but it must be a reflex because then his expression changes to cautious. "But…it's looking like I might end up that way regardless."

The bottom drops out of Wayne's stomach. "Don't do it," he says immediately, shaking his head. "Don't. Forget what I said, forget what I told you about bad and good rising up against it—that wasn't—I was scared, and a coward, and—nobody deserves that kind of life, least of all you. It'd kill you, and I can't—you'd hate it, all those people and they're all judging you, constantly, you have _no_ privacy and you can't ever have what _you _want, you can't ever be anything but what _they_ tell you to be and it's _hell_."

Megamind takes one look at his face and starts to take his coat off again. "Easy, big guy. It's like you said, though, right? Nobody says it has to be a lifetime gig."

Wayne rakes in a shallow breath and tries to get a grip. "Well, _yeah_, but there's no way out. You can't quit or they'll tear you to pieces, it's happened before—" He stops abruptly, jaw working, then hurries forward as he tries to explain. "I mean, Scotia Gale got _murdered_ by the press, she's a hermit now, somewhere in the Rockies. I tried to visit her once, after Neuronaut—well. She deserved to know. But she ran me off her property with a shotgun, she's lost her _mind_," he says quickly, before Megamind can ask. "And there've been others, too. Richter's never sober, never straight, he's stopped even _trying_ to go to rehab, God, he's so fucked up anymore he can't even tell if it's day or night. And Lumen just vanished. Bought a ticket home to Russia and none of us have heard from him since."

Despite his best efforts, he's babbling, but he can't stop even when he hears himself saying, "I just can't stand it, thinking you might end up like one of them, thinking you might end up like Neuronaut and it'll be all my fault, I can't—"

Megamind grabs him by the arm and pulls him over to the armchair, shoves him backwards into it, then plunks himself down cross-legged on the coffee table facing him. His coat is back in a heap on the floor again. "_Shut up_," he snaps, and Wayne shuts up. "You're _this close_ to being incoherent. What happened to Neuronaut?"

"Oh, he—I forgot you wouldn't know—he, uh, he tried to retire." Wayne looks down, looks up, looks anywhere but at Megamind. "Hung up the goggles and gloves, and he did the best he could, he fought it for a couple years, but he couldn't take it, the criticism, all the hate mail and regret and thinking he should've stuck with it when it was killing him. I read a few of those letters, they were…cruel. He—he couldn't take it, and he—" His mouth turns down at the corners and he looks away, suddenly calm. "He put a gun in his mouth one January. New Years. The landlady found him about a week later."

Megamind's mouth falls open.

"If I'd just—just invited him over, just once. If I'd called him, just once, maybe…"

"Not your fault," Megamind says automatically, staring at Wayne in sudden alarm.

"Dammit, Blue, I know that." Wayne rubs a hand over his face and glares down at his lap. "But I can't stop wondering. I meant it when I said you can't just quit. Job like that, it…it does things to you. I haven't been sleeping, you know?"

"Please tell me I'm not going to come over here one day and find you lying dead on the floor."

Surprised, Wayne looks up. Megamind is sitting very still. He has both hands twisted together, white-knuckled in his lap; sitting like he is, watching Wayne with those wide green eyes in a pale blue face, he looks almost frightened.

So Wayne nods and smiles a little, scratches at his beard. "Don't worry. I promise."

The reassurance has the opposite effect from what he had expected: Megamind gasps and curls away as if he's been punched. "You're _lying_." His eyes flick back and forth between Wayne's. "You're lying about—about—"

And then, right before Wayne's eyes, Megamind hunches forward, shoulders shaking, breath coming in quick, uneven gasps. Wayne doesn't know what to do. He looks worriedly around as if he's expecting to see some kind of cue, but there's nothing. Finally, he reaches out and lays a cautious hand on Megamind's shoulder. "Uh…listen, little buddy, I'm not…I'm not gonna try to kill myself. Really. I'm not."

"You _better_ not!" Megamind uncurls a little. Half-blind with tears, he follows Wayne's arm up to his shoulder and then wraps both arms around his neck, pulling himself against the ex-hero and clinging there, clenching his fingers in Wayne's tee shirt. "You'd better _not_."

Wayne freezes. This is something _Roxanne_ would do, not Megamind. Megamind is cold and distant and always has been. He comforts with awkward sarcasm, wields acrid humor like a sword. This is completely unlike him. He _never_ touches Wayne, rarely even comes _close_ enough to touch; it's why Wayne had put him down so quickly earlier. But now all Megamind's stubbornness and pride have come crashing down, and maybe the realization shouldn't come as such a surprise, but it does—_I'm not the only one who's scared_.

Wayne isn't the only one who doesn't know what to do. He has just shocked his way past all of Megamind's defenses and hit him where it hurts, right in the family; what Megamind is doing right now is real and unaffected. This, Wayne realizes, this is the man behind the mask. _And he's just as uncertain about the future as I am_.

What had he said before? _I may not like you, Wayne Scott, and you may not like me, but I think we understand one another and we certainly can't get rid of each other_.

So _this_ is what he had meant when he had said he wouldn't get rid of Wayne even if he could.

Tentatively, Wayne pats him on the back, and Megamind's arms tighten. His sharp shoulder is digging into Wayne's throat, but whatever, Wayne doesn't care. The people who mind don't matter, and the people who matter won't mind, and Megamind genuinely doesn't mind that Wayne abandoned the city and went into hiding. More than that, he wants to _help_.

_Holy shit_. That's what the gifts are about. Megamind wants to help but he doesn't know how, so he's doing this, instead. In his own stumbling, fumbling way, he's trying to tell Wayne that he cares.

A tired grin splits his face and he puts his arms around the thin body, hooks his chin down over the bony shoulder and shuts his eyes. For the first time in a long time, Wayne has somebody who cares about him. For the first time ever, somebody cares about Wayne because he knows him and understands.

"Thanks," he mutters, and feels Megamind's fingers twist in his shirt. "Thanks, little buddy. Means a lot."

"Please be okay," Megamind rasps. He really must be scared, to show this side of him to Wayne, of all people. "Please be okay. There, I said it. I want you to be okay."

"I will be," Wayne mumbles. "And I'm not gonna hurt myself. I promise you that."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Megamind hisses without lifting his head, "but if I can move through it, so can you. It gets better. It takes time and energy and even then sometimes you feel like the world is closing in on you and you can't breathe, but—it gets better. Trust me on this."

"I do trust you." Wayne shakes his head. "Listen, Blue. I'm pretty shook up right now, but I'll be fine. Are _you_ okay?"

Megamind sighs and finally pulls away. "I…I am, yes. You just surprised me. It…ugh. I was ten," he mutters. "Had a pretrial detainee in my cell because the prison was overcrowded, it was just supposed to be for a little while. I got back from my tutoring lesson one day and found him hanging from the window bars. Made me a little bit…jumpy. Hey, are there any success stories?" he asks, switching tacks so suddenly that it makes Wayne blink. "Of other heroes retiring, I mean. Where it's worked out."

Wayne's silence is answer enough.

"Oh, damn. Okay. Well. You'll just have to be the first, then."

Wayne half-smiles. "Dunno. There isn't exactly a great precedent."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Megamind tells him, and scoots back onto the coffee table. "None of those other heroes had what you have. They didn't have real friends. You've got me! And Roxanne and Minion! We're used to people hating us, we'll side with you. No worries."

"Roxie isn't used to it," Wayne points out.

"Roxanne is a stubborn _bitch_ when she wants to be," Megamind declares proudly. "She'll stick up for you, too, just you wait and see."

Wayne's brow furrows. "And you really don't care that I just…hung you out to dry back there? The Titan thing?"

Megamind suddenly looks uncomfortable. "Well, I wouldn't say I don't _care_. But I get why you did it. And I'm not so petty that I'm going to be all, 'Oh, he really needs some company right now? _Well, sucks to be him! Ha ha ha!_' That's not cool. Besides, all's well that ends well, right? It's really no big deal."

Wayne shakes his head. "Unbelievable."

Megamind makes a tchhh noise in his throat and shakes his head. "Look at us," he says suddenly. "What are we doing?"

"Not sure. I think we've traded places, to some degree."

Megamind scrubs his sleeve across his nose. His wrists are impossibly small. _How can someone so tiny be so tough?_ Wayne wonders. "I think we have," he agrees. "I also think that neither of us really knows what to do with himself."

Wayne shakes his head. "Yeah, that about sums it up. But listen. If you…if you do end up a hero, if they get you? I think you might be pretty good at it."

Megamind scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"I'm serious," Wayne tells him. "You're good. I don't know how it happened, but you—you're one of these ridiculous people who are just—_good_. I had to work at it. You don't." He sits back in his chair. "You're good because you don't know how else to be."

"Stop," Megamind says sharply, "just stop right there. People are dead because of me. You realize that, right? I do deals with crime syndicates. I steal, I lie, I blackmail, I poisoned my eleventh-grade chemistry teacher. I'm not good."

"Yeah, but he deserved it," Wayne grins at him. "And how many brainbots are out patrolling the streets right now?"

Megamind snorts. "Psh, they don't _patrol_. Patrolling is _conspicuous_. I station them on the corners of buildings."

Wayne just smirks. Megamind blinks at him, then muffles a curse, and Wayne laughs.

"Look, all I'm saying is this: if you find yourself in that position, I think you'd be good at it. And I think you're strong enough to throw in the towel when you're done and deal with what happens."

Megamind watches him uncertainly. "Don't mock me," he warns, and Wayne shakes his head.

"I'm not mocking you," he says. "You're stronger than I'll ever be. I mean that."

Megamind's expression blows wide in astonishment, and Wayne looks at his watch before he can say anything. "It's getting late. I ought to let you go."

Megamind frowns. "It's not even two o'clock."

Wayne shrugs. "Social code."

Megamind blinks. "Wha…oh. Dude, if you want me to leave, just tell me." He stands and picks up his coat again, then turns around. He looks nervous. "Are you sure you'll be all right?"

Wayne nods. "Absolutely. But, really, thanks for giving a shit what happens to me. And you take care, okay? Don't be a stranger."

"Likewise." Megamind flashes a smile, white-white teeth in a blue face. "The gaping hole in my ceiling is always open!"

Wayne goes and stands in the open doorway for a long time after Megamind disappears up the tunnel, frowning into nothing.

They've been looking after each other for a long time, far longer than he's ever cared to admit. The truth is…

The truth is, Wayne hates the truth.

He falls back onto his couch and picks up his viola, stares at it.

"_You don't have a soul!"_

He groans and scrubs the heels of his hands into his eyes until spots of black and white dance behind his eyelids. The truth is, no matter what Megamind says, Wayne is not a good person. He's not _bad_, certainly, but he abandoned his family and city. That can't possibly be good. _How many people died this year because I wasn't around to save them?_

Megamind is wrong; he has to be, no matter how badly Wayne wants him to be right.

He likes who he is now more than he likes who he had been, mostly because who he is now has potential and isn't completely fake, but that's not saying much. He had been feeling so good about everything, up until the fire brought his world crashing down around him. He can't stay in denial anymore. Ignoring the news is no longer enough.

_Potential_. All the potential to do something good with his life, and now all he can think about is how selfish he's being.

He had been a hero, once. Big shot, talk of the town – people had loved him, once. And now he's hiding underground, in a soundproofed room, afraid to go out any more than he has to and trying not to hate himself when he wakes up sweating in the night.

_I'm just trying to survive!_ he snaps at himself, but he already knows how much good that will do. Richter, Scotia Gale, Neuronaut…is Metro Man next on the list of lost heroes?

His hands clench into white-knuckled fists. _I will _not_ be another casualty_, he tells himself, but he's starting to wonder if he already is.

Well, he hasn't lost his mind yet, he hasn't succumbed to any addictions, and he hasn't killed himself; so far, he's doing pretty well. Hadn't Lumen done the same thing? Just disappeared? Maybe he's still out there somewhere, living peacefully. Maybe he's even happy.

Wayne twists the dial on his watch, goes through all the settings. He does a double take when he finds himself looking down at blue Spandex with a red and yellow logo on the chest, and a quick glance in the mirror shows him a face straight out of a comic book – square jaw, slick black hair – and suddenly the handsome face is laughing harder than Wayne can ever remember doing. Laughing because it's _funny_.

The laughter subsides, and Wayne switches back to the brown suit and studies himself.

The new persona is built along the same lines as Wayne is, but that's as far as the resemblance goes. His nose is straight, his eyes just a _little_ too far apart, and his new chin is rounded. His mouth is good, even if the teeth are slightly crooked.

It really looks nothing like him. He glances down at the watch. _Waterproof, aerodynamic, shatterproof…_

_This is safe._

Wayne grins and grabs his wallet. He's going out.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Megamind steps back into the Lair and finds Roxanne reading on the sofa. Smiling nervously, he approaches. "Hey," he greets her. "What you got there?"

Frowning, she reads aloud, "'The DAG produced by PA phosphatase is used for the synthesis of TAG and for the synthesis of PE and PC via the Kennedy pathway (4-7) (Fig.1). Moreover, both PA (e.g. activation of cell growth, membrane proliferation, transcription, and vesicular trafficking) and DAG (e.g. activation of protein kinase C) have lipid signaling functions (8-17), and PA phosphatase plays a role in controlling their cellular concentrations (2, 18).'"

Megamind bursts out laughing. "Oh, god," he groans, reaching for the papers, "where did you find that?"

"Wait, wait, it gets better!" Roxanne exclaims, holding him away from her with one hand. "'Thus, it is generally recognized that PA phosphatase is a key regulatory enzyme for controlling lipid metabolism and cell physiology (4, 7, 19-21). The biochemistry and physiological roles of PA phosphatase emanated from studies in the model eukaryote yeast _Saccharomyces cerevisiae_ and latterly in mammalian cells (4, 7, 19, 21, 22).'" She looks up at Megamind as he leans on the back of the couch, still laughing. "What the hell did I just read?"

He reaches out and plucks the scientific journal out of her fingers, thumbs through it. "It's, um, it's about an enzyme that protects against fatty acid-induced toxicity in yeast."

"Well, at least I understood the words that time."

Megamind grins at her. "Feeling any better?"

"I think so." She shrugs. "Drew called about Thanksgiving – I told him I was still planning to visit."

Megamind nods. "Good, that's good."

"I also told him I was planning on borrowing your car."

Megamind's head snaps up. "What? You can't. The Invisible Car is covered in spikes!"

"I know, I know," Roxanne hurriedly assures him. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. But I have been thinking, since then, and I was wondering. Have you ever thought about having a…another car? One that _isn't_ covered in spikes?"

Megamind frowns. "Why would I think about that?"

"Well…" Roxanne says slowly. "Well, we'll need one for the Christmas trip. I mean, unless you want to come out before we head down."

"_God_, no!" Megamind looks horrified.

"So we'll need a normal-looking car."

"Unless we fly down," Megamind points out. "You're assuming we'll drive."

"You don't want to drive?" Roxanne asks.

Megamind blinks, then vaults over the back of the couch to land cross-legged on the other end. "I didn't think about that, either. I guess I don't really care either way. Do you want to drive?"

"I asked what you want," Roxanne tells him.

Megamind fixes her with a Look. "I told you, I don't care. If I say I don't have a preference, it means I don't have a preference."

Roxanne smiles. "Well…I kind of would like to drive. I mean, you've never been out of Metro, not _really_, right? And it's been a long time since I did any road trips. It could be fun."

"It's also twenty-three hundred miles. A day and a half of driving if we take it in shifts to drive straight through." Megamind tilts his head. "Are you okay with that?"

Roxanne nods. "You forget, I've been back and forth between Metro and San Francisco a lot. I'm used to it. I kind of miss it, even. But will _you_ be okay with going so long without intellectual stimulation?"

Megamind's whole face lights up and he bounces a little in his seat. "Or!" he exclaims. "Or, or! We could make it a real road trip, with stops and everything, and cameras, and we could go and _see_ things! It would take longer but that would be _so fun!_"

He sinks his teeth into his lower lip, and how can Roxanne say 'no' to a face like that? Laughing now herself, she nods her head. "Okay! Yes, that does sound like fun—"

"And I can even have a fleet of brainbots take the car back to Metro for us, and we can take the train back home," Megamind continues excitedly. "I've never been on a train before. I bet it would be easier than driving! We could do that. Can we do that?"

"Sure we can," Roxanne agrees automatically. "But train tickets are expensive."

"Oh, don't you worry about _expensive_," Megamind says dismissively. "I didn't get where I am so that I could worry about _expensive_. We've been over this."

"Right," Roxanne smiles. "Silly me."

"So we'll need a car," Megamind mutters, tapping a finger against his lips for a moment. Then he looks at her. "You should pick it out. I don't think I'd be very responsible. Just make sure there's enough…" He cups his hands in front of him and moves them in a circle, gestures wordlessly for a moment. "…Headroom. And no _minivans_."

"What's wrong with minivans?" Roxanne asks, affronted. "My first car was a minivan."

"Oh, they're fine, they're just fine," Megamind assures her. "For people who aren't _me_. Look at me, Roxanne." He pulls himself up and cocks an eyebrow at her, tapping his chest with both hands. "Can you see _me_ driving a minivan?"

Roxanne just grins at him. She can, but the mental image is pretty funny. "I see you in something with a little more supervillain-y."

"_Ex_-supervillain," Megamind corrects her, and she smirks.

"Ex-supervillain who still skirts the law a lot."

_So, something with a lot of potential for maneuverability_, she thinks. _And horsepower, but he's bound to modify whatever I find. I'd kind of like to surprise him_… "Okay," she says aloud. "What's the budget, here?"

"What do I know about buying cars?" Megamind shrugs absently. "I guess try to keep it under a hundred."

Roxanne frowns. "Dollars?"

Megamind sends her a strange look. He's thinking about something else; Roxanne can tell. "…Thousand."

"Oh!" _Quite a bit of wiggle room, there_. "Oh, okay. That frees it up a bit. I'll look into it."

Megamind nods. "Cool, yes, that'll be…cool."

Roxanne looks at him for a long minute. "So, where did you have to go?"

He blinks at her and pulls back into focus. "Oh, I went over to the Fortress. Had to give Wayne his watch."

"What, like…like a disguise generator watch?"

"Yeah." Megamind fiddles with the black band on his wrist. "Yeah, he seemed really excited about it."

Roxanne raises her eyebrows. "That's really nice of you to do for him."

Megamind shrugs. "Well, you know. It sucks that he can't go outside anymore. At least this way he'll be able to get some fresh air and human interaction without having to go into hyperspeed."

"I guess he would be used to human interaction," she says, prompting a little. Megamind looks troubled. "But you've always done pretty well without it."

"Yes, but Wayne isn't me," Megamind says flatly. "He's always had scads of people around to talk to. Now it's just him, alone with his thoughts, and…I think it's doing a number on him, honestly."

Roxanne opens her mouth to respond, but Megamind interrupts. "Did you know he plays the viola?"

"I—knew. Yes."

He frowns. "You hesitated."

Roxanne sighs. "I know he used to play, but I've never heard him. He doesn't like to talk about it." She shakes her head. "His parents pretty much forced it on him but for some reason he never fought it." Then she cocks her head, curious. "How did you find out?"

"He was playing when I went over," Megamind tells her, and Roxanne's eyebrows fly up.

"_Really?_ Is he any good?"

"It's not just music, I'll tell you that." He shakes his head. "I don't get it."

Roxanne looks at him for a moment. "You want to know what I think?"

"Oh, yes, _please_," Megamind groans, sprawling theatrically over the back of the couch. "You know him _way_ better than I do. Make this make sense to me. I do not understand."

"Okay." Roxanne is silent for a moment, trying to think how to phrase what she wants to say. It's complicated. "First of all. Wayne has…family problems? His parents loved him, but they've been pushing him for a long, long time."

"Pushing?"

Roxanne rolls over and throws one knee over the other. "Like…okay, here's an example. I used to go visit with the Scotts pretty regularly. I mean, _they_ knew who Metro Man really was, and of course they wanted to meet their son's girlfriend, right? So I'd be over there, talking with Lord Scott, and we'd usually end up talking business. He'd always say things like, _when Wayne is ready to take over the company_, and, _when I hand Scott Enterprises over to my son_, but he'd only phrase it like that when Wayne was in earshot. It was like there was always this _tension_ between them. You should have heard the fights."

Megamind frowns. "He was against Wayne being a hero? I thought he just wanted the whole Metro Man thing kept to a night job kind of deal."

"He _wanted_ Wayne to take over SE. He _wanted_ Wayne to put on a suit and tie and carry a briefcase. He wanted Wayne to get married and have kids. He would have been happy with a politician or a financier or a lawyer or a real estate tycoon, but _no_, he got a superhero. He and Lady knew what kind of son they wanted, and Wayne just…wasn't it.

"Oh, he _tried_ to be," Roxanne hastens to add when Megamind scowls and opens his mouth to argue. "He definitely wanted to be. Like with the music thing. He wanted to sing with them, but he's pretty much tone-deaf when it comes to vocal music. And then he wanted to play music, but his first choice would reflect poorly on the Scott name or some bullshit like that. He _didn't_ want to run the business—he's _not_ good at business—what he _was_ good at was being a hero."

"I'm not seeing the problem, here," Megamind complains. "All I'm getting is that Wayne's dad wasn't happy about his career path."

Roxanne takes a deep breath. "Okay, then I'm not explaining this properly. Think about it this way: Wayne has been trying really, really hard to be the kind of son his parents wanted, which is why Metro Man kept his identity a secret—but the problem is, he's always fallen short of the mark. His parents want grandchildren and a daughter-in-law; Wayne is gay. His parents want a professional violist who can entertain at social functions; Wayne wants to play the guitar. His parents want a politician-_slash_-lawyer-_slash_-CEO; Wayne wants to do rock 'n' roll and sing the blues. And the city wants him to be a hero, which is the one thing he actually is, but he couldn't make his father proud of him no matter how many lives he saved.

"Who Wayne Scott _is_ and who his parents _want_ him to be will _never reconcile_." She shrugs helplessly. "He's a failure, in his mind."

Megamind frowns harder. "That makes even _less_ sense! I mean, all the things he's done, look what he's _accomplished_—"

"Not what he's done," Roxanne says gently. "_Who he is_. Is a failure."

Megamind is silent for a long moment. Roxanne watches his face change—his eyebrows flatten and draw together, his lips thin and turn down at the corners. "Ah," he says after a while. "I see."

"I could be wrong," Roxanne begins, but Megamind silences her with a wave.

"No," he says. "No, I don't think you're wrong. So he became a hero," he murmurs, and shakes his head. "…I don't believe this."

Roxanne frowns. "What is it?"

"I just—" Megamind pauses for a split second, then forges ahead. "I mentioned to him that I might end up being a hero. He lost it. Seemed to think I'd end up killing myself if that happened. Apparently there have been others who tried to leave the hero business—an ex-hero called Neuronaut went out that way. Another one went mad, and another's an alcoholic, and another just straight-up disappeared. Not a lot of good examples to follow, right?"

Then he snarls and slams his head back against the back of the couch, making Roxanne jump. "_Damn_ it," he hisses. "The worst part is, I know _exactly_ how to fix this; I just don't know how to set it in motion. He needs a catalyst. I've _been_ where he is, and believe me, Roxanne, it is possible to get so low that you break through the other side—you come out angry at everything, and you've got a will to live like you wouldn't believe. I hit that point back in high school, but Wayne's still throwing himself against the wall trying. He needs to something to push him over the edge, make him go, _No, you know what? Fuck this. We do things my way, now_. He needs to get _angry_.

"I'd do it, if I knew what to do," he grumbles. "I owe him a lot. Any other hero might have tried to stop me for good, but I got lucky. I got Metro Man. I don't think he even _realizes_ how much he's done for me, and now he's just…just _stuck_ in this awful place in his mind, and I don't know what to do, I don't know how to help!" He makes vague strangling motions for a minute. "I just…I want him to be happy again. No, you know what? I want him to have what _I_ have. I told Minion the other night: I'm finally happy. I'm so scared of losing that, and I'm so glad I finally have it. All I've ever wanted is to just be happy, and now I am, and it's _glorious_ and everything is finally-finally-_finally_ going right—and then I look at him. And I just…" He trails off and looks helplessly at Roxanne. "You know?"

She nods. She actually can't bring herself to speak for a couple of seconds, because hearing Megamind talk about how he's happier than he's ever been in his life and wants the person who more or less screwed him over as a child to be happy, too, is almost too much.

But she manages to nod, and then she manages to say, "Yeah. I know. It's not fair."

Megamind huffs quietly and slumps, rubbing his forehead. "Life isn't fair."

"But you want it to be," Roxanne says softly, and he looks at her again, then down at his hands. "Don't you? That's why you made the watch."

Megamind chews his lip for a moment, then his shoulders give a funny spasm that's probably supposed to be a shrug. "I had to do _something_."

Roxanne looks at him, skinny frame slouching tiredly, blue features rumpled in irritated contemplation. Without the cape and shoulder array, he looks very different—more accessible, more down-to-earth. "I love you," she says. She had meant it to sound like a declaration, but it comes out as more of an observation.

Megamind blinks at her, and some of his worry clears. "I…love you too."

Roxanne grins at him. Maybe it's just the day she's been having cannot possibly get any better or any worse, but she feels absolutely stupid-happy right now in spite of Megamind's obvious distress and Wayne's emotional turmoil. She hadn't really thought she'd ever say those words again—not and mean them the way she does—and of all the people she could have ended up saying them to, she's glad she ended up with Megamind.

"So what should we do about Wayne?" she asks.

Megamind gives another hopeless shrug. "I don't know. I suppose all we can do is make sure he knows we'll always stand with him. He'll catch a lot of flak if he ever comes out of hiding; I know _I_ don't give much of a crap what the critics say, but I'm _used_ to people hating me and Minion. He said he knows that, but mentioned that _you_ aren't accustomed to it."

Roxanne rolls her eyes. "Oh, like it'll really matter. What did you tell him?"

"I said you were a stubborn bitch when you wanted to be, and you'd stick by him, too." Megamind grins at her. Roxanne blinks back at him, shocked speechless, and his smile slips a few notches. "…What?"

"You called me a bitch?"

She hadn't meant to sound like _that_, but it's too late now. Megamind's eyes go wide and he pales, teetering on the edge of panic. "I didn't—I didn't mean it—I'm _sorry!_"

Roxanne scrambles across the sofa and squeezes him into a hug. "I'm so _proud_ of you!" she exclaims, and pulls back to look at him, beaming. _That was too fast_, she thinks, slightly alarmed. _He's more upset about everything than he's letting on, to go downhill so quickly like that_.

Megamind, so full of angry tension a few seconds ago, now looks like he's just narrowly avoided being hit by a bus. He must be scared; he's holding his hands away as though he's afraid to touch her. "I, you, what? I didn't. What?"

Roxanne laughs in what she hopes is a reassuring manner and flattens her hands on his chest. "Honey, if you are so comfortable with me that you can good-naturedly call me a bitch behind my back, I think we're doing pretty well. I'm not saying I hope that becomes a regular thing, but I know you didn't mean it like that, really."

"Oh. Oh, okay. It's okay, then? We're okay?"

_His heart is really racing_, Roxanne realizes, and sobers. She puts a hand on the side of his neck, feels his pulse flutter under her palm. "Megamind, calm _down_." She strokes the pad of her thumb against the soft skin under his jaw. "We're fine."

"I know! I'm sorry!" He gulps, wild-eyed but trying to smile for her anyway. "Adrenaline is a harsh mistress but I have to learn to work with her!"

She can't help but laugh at that. Megamind laughs too, but it's shaky. Roxanne leans into his shoulder and picks up his hand, feels around his wrist for a pulse. She can't explain why, but that triple-beat is fascinating.

"I'm," he says, "um. Can I hug you?"

Roxanne nods and starts to turn, then lets out a startled _oof!_ when he drags her sideways and clutches her to his chest. She blinks. She can't reciprocate; she's facing the wrong way.

"I don't know what's wrong with me today," Megamind mumbles, burying his nose in the hair above her ear.

Roxanne blinks but pats his leg. "I think you're just having a really, really bad day."

"Not as bad as the day _you're_ having. Or the day Wayne is having."

"Oh, I think it is," Roxanne tells him. "I think it might be worse, because you're worrying about us _and_ all the problems in your personal life. Sweetie, listen—sometimes, you can't help. Don't take it so hard. Sometimes there really isn't anything you can do except be there for people." She hooks a hand over his arm, rubs back and forth. "Okay?"

"…Okay." Megamind lets out a puff of laughter, cool against her skin. "By that logic, Minion must be having the worst day of all because he's worried about all of us." He pauses. "We should do something for him. Give him the night off, or something."

Roxanne thinks for a moment. "How about this? You set something to automatically shut down whatever needs to be shut down for Wayne to visit his mom, and then we go back to my place for the night. All three of us. We order takeout and eat off of paper plates so Minion can't try to wash anything, rent a pile of movies, turn off our cell phones and other electronic devices, and have a quiet night in somewhere that isn't the Lair." She twists around and looks up at Megamind. "How does that sound?"

She knows what his answer is going to be even before he opens his mouth. The sheer relief shining out of his face speaks volumes, and she can already feel him relaxing a little bit. "That sounds…that sounds fantastic. But don't you have to work? It's Tuesday. You haven't gone into work in…four days?"

Roxanne smiles. "I was going to," she admits, "even if it was just to get some filing done, but honestly? You're more important."

Megamind frowns. "I don't want to pull you down."

She rolls her eyes. "Okay, what I mean to say is—I called the office while you were out earlier, after Drew hung up. Or," she amends, "the office called me. Jo was wondering where I've been. I told her I'd be coming in later, but then I made the mistake of telling her what went down this morning." She feels Megamind hide a smile against her scalp. "You can probably guess what her response was."

"So you're not _allowed_ to go in to work today."

"I think she may kill me if I try," Roxanne laughs. "She even told our boss what was going on, and Carl agreed with her. So no, I'm not allowed in today."

Megamind shakes his head. "Your friend Jo," he says, "is a control freak." Then his arms tighten around Roxanne. "I'm so glad."

"Really?" Roxanne leans back against him, pushes him back against the sofa. It's the closest she can come to hugging him when he's holding her like this. "I'm so _happy_."

Megamind grins. "Yeah," he murmurs. "Me, too. Finally."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Sunrise finds Megamind in a thin line on his girlfriend's sofa, one arm flopped across Roxanne's waist and the other curled against his chest. The glass of Minion's bowl is smooth pressure against the back of his head, and Roxanne is soft against his face and her arm is warm around his back where she's hugging him.

Sunrise finds Roxanne on her back on the couch, Megamind wedged against her side. Minion's bowl is surprisingly warm against her ear. Her arm is asleep but she can't free herself without waking Megamind, so instead she snugs him closer and wiggles away from the edge of the sofa, tilts her face to make sure Minion doesn't roll away.

Megamind hums and shifts around for a moment, and Roxanne realizes that he's probably awake. He mutters something like 'razzumfrazzum' and hoists himself up, sits up a little and looks blearily around.

"You okay?" Roxanne asks softly, and he sniffs and tangles his hand in the throw blanket Roxanne keeps on the back of the sofa.

"Izza blankit," he mumbles, pulling it down and shaking it out with weak, sleepy movements. "Izza _warm_." He throws one end down the couch, then pulls the other end up over his head as he crawls fully on top of Roxanne and scoots down to put his head on her chest. He kicks with his feet until he catches the edge of the blanket under his toes, then subsides with a little sigh.

Then he stirs again, lifts his head a little. "Minnnn?"

"He's sleeping, Megamind."

"Wants'a Minnn."

Roxanne can't help but grin. She reaches up and eases Minion's bowl down on the soft suede, being careful not to slosh the sleeping fish, until she's able to tuck him under her arm. Megamind turns his face towards the back of the couch and wraps his arm up around the glass sphere.

Roxanne absently rubs her free hand up and down Megamind's back for a while, until he grumbles something and paws at her arm.

"Nnstoppit," he says. "Y'crazy. Crazy reporter lady. Mm tryin' t'sleep."

Roxanne chuckles and grabs his hand with hers. "Okay," she says. "Okay, hon. You sleep."

"'N' you sleep too," he insists, bending his neck and nuzzling his face down in between Roxanne's chest and Minion's bowl. "You sleep too. Got ever'body right here. 'S perfect." He lets out a small, happy sigh and nuzzles deeper. "Didn't know sleep could be so perfect," he whispers, and then his breathing lengthens and evens out and he's asleep again.

Neither had Roxanne, but Megamind is right. This is perfect. No matter what hells yesterday might have brought or tomorrow may bring, life cannot possibly be better than it is when she's waking up slowly in the early morning with her boys.


	15. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Ruth has been having a rough day. Two of her best volunteers had quit because they had found full-time jobs, and then there had been that giant spill, and the coffeepot had broken down yet _again_ and had needed to be repaired…and now, on top of everything else, she's been going over the donation numbers and they just aren't working out. Someone has been skimming off the top. She doesn't know who it is and she doesn't know how to find out, and she's honestly not sure if he even cares anymore because at this rate there's no way she'll be able to stay open.

She looks away from the line of tiny numbers and pushes her glasses up onto her forehead so that she can massage her aching eyes. "God, I need a miracle."

"Uh, hey. Knock knock?"

Ruth looks up. And up. And up. Then she blinks a few times, just to make sure her eyes aren't playing tricks on her.

No, there really _is _a man the size of a house standing in the doorway, and he looks uncomfortable. "I was, uh, I was just walking past and…and I saw your sign. Help wanted?"

Ruth glances at the ceiling and sends up a quiet _thank you_. "You want to volunteer? Here?"

The big man nods.

"Here, at _this_ kitchen?" She points at the floor as if that will make her question clearer.

"That's right."

Ruth rubs her eyes again. They've been bothering her more and more lately and the headaches are getting worse, but it's not like she can afford new glasses. "I appreciate the offer, son, I really do, but I'll level with you – I dunno how much longer we'll be open. You'd do better to go to one of the bigger kitchens."

To her surprise, the big man shakes his head. "They don't need me. You do." He fishes something rectangular and black out of his jacket pocket. Follows that with a pen.

Ruth's heart flutters. _No_, she thinks. _He isn't_.

But he is. "To whom do I make checks payable?"

This is too good to be true. "Helping Hands Community Kitchen. Sorry, did you want to donate or volunteer?"

Big-and-Tall leans down on the desk to write out the check, glances up at her with twinkling hazel eyes. His arms are _huge_. "Can't I do both?"

"I—of course, that'd be…oh sweet _Jesus_," she exclaims, staring at the number on the check. _That's a lot of zeros_, she thinks dizzily.

She looks up at the big man. "What'd you say your name was?"

"I didn't. It's Ben."

Ruth glances down at the check, crisp and clean in her crabbed fingers, then frowns. The signature is very spiky, and looks a bit like…_no_. She swallows a question, ignores the million conspiracy theories dancing through her head. Who cares what the signature looks like it might say? It's a _big_ number. "Ben…?"

"Just Ben."

Ruth nods, pulls open the drawer of her desk and slips the check inside, then takes out a volunteer form. "Good to have you on board, Just-Ben. Let's talk hours." She leans forward, squinting up at him—the way he's standing, his head is blocking the overhead light. Ruth's glaucoma gives him a dazzling halo. "We're open nine to six, seven days a week, three hundred and sixty-five days a year. What hours can you work?"

That gets a smile. Crooked and snaggletoothed, but it's wide and friendly. "All of them."

Ruth stares. If Ben is serious, maybe she'll finally be able to take a day off once in a while. "All…?"

"All of them," Ben says again, firmly. "If it gets to be too much for me, I'll let you know. Write it down."

Ruth shakes her head but obediently pens in, _MTWThF open/close_. "Ben," she says seriously, "you are my new best friend."

Ben chuckles. "Yeah, well. Heard you needed a miracle, so I figured I'd stop by."

Ruth laughs. The shadow of stress that's been hanging over her head for the past six months has lifted; right now, she's pretty sure she could fly. "You're a hero. I swear."

"No, I'm really not. Not a hero." Ben shakes his head. "Just a guy with too much money trying to do something good with it for a change."

Ruth stands and claps him on the back. "Sometimes that's all it takes." She limps over to the door and pulls her cane out of the umbrella stand. "C'mon, Superman, I'll show you how to work the coffee maker without breaking it."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Roxanne's first morning as a resident of the Lair is nowhere near as quiet as her final morning in her apartment had been.

_vvoooOOOEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE—_

"_Waargh!_" Roxanne shrieks and bolts upright, staring desperately around for the source of the noise until her gaze falls on Megamind. He's standing by the bed and holding a small, round machine with a crank on the side, and he's cranking away on it with a broad grin on his face. The little machine is wailing with a noise that would raise the dead.

Swearing, Roxanne lunges for him, but she gets tangled in the sheets as Megamind dances away, cackling madly and holding the air raid siren out of her reach. He sticks his tongue out at her just before he leaps into the bathroom and slams the door, then calls out, "Yeah, see how _you_ like waking up to the end of the world!" A moment later, she hears the shower start running.

Roxanne is still clutching the sheets to her heaving chest. "I'm gonna kill you," she finally manages to growl, and staggers into the bathroom after him.


End file.
